#gentleman apprentice week

[miitokii]

can i post this for shuake week day 7 even though it’s late and isn’t really shuake (I LOVE SHUAKE) :,)

joker’s palace! i imagine he has one shadow for each confidant, and they’re all called their respective arcanas.

his palace is a theatre/masquerade, hence they all have masks and gloves

the first one (which i also posted before, is arsène/fool)

the last one is strength (the shadow for the twin wardens). it’s kinda just his inmate outfit so i didn’t line/colour it properly lol

i also have these, which i drew for a different purpose [which has now been posted!] (hence the lack of masks, gloves, and yellow eyes; and the drawings of the confidants; and the relative lack of detail) but if i were to draw them the designs would be similar

warning for long ass dump of my notes on each shadow lol:

each shadow is sort of like how ren tries to portray himself to each of his confidants, like their ideal version of him (at least in joker’s cognition)

joker (fool): his ‘joker’ persona - the leader of the phantom thieves, bold, flamboyant, confident (i.e. how he portrays himself in the metaverse)

ann (lovers): fashionista, model, stepping into drag queen territory

i initially drew a suit version but then remembered ren canonically has crossdressed lol (we love the mementos mission manga)

haru (empress): a sweet and gentle prince, detached from okumura foods (like haru’s getaway, prince charming)

makoto (priestess): a model student, smart, serious, but also driven and follows own ideals (like makoto wishes she could)

ryuji (chariot): punkish gym bro

akechi (justice): righteous knight, intellectual and justice driven

morgana (magician): a phantom thief, a cowboy sort of image, sly, cunning, fast

yusuke (emporer): traditional japanese furisode (in modern times this tends to be worn by women, which yusuke could be more drawn to in his models) artistic, down to earth

there’s also a bit about his mother, since a furisode is mostly worn by unmarried women, and since we never hear about yusuke’s biological father, i’d guess she was unmarried? yusuke wants to recapture the beauty of the sayuri (which is a self-portrait) and thinks he could do so with a beautiful model - so ren wears a furisode like an unmarried young woman, like yusuke’s mother

futaba (hermit): otaku, nerd, older brother figure and fellow gamer

sojiro (heirophant): apprentice barista, 2nd boss of leblanc, charming, a ladies man (sorry sojiro your son is gay)

twin wardens (strength): just an inmate lol (focused on fusing lots of personas and filling the compendium, plus listening to igor)

sumi (faith): senior more experienced gymnast/trainer, ‘senpai’

mishima (moon): gentleman thief, but unlike fool and magician, moon would be more secretive and cunning like a traditional gentleman thief

maruki (counsellor): fellow researcher, curious and driven, but very kind and empathetic

maruki would also wish ren was more like him, and agreed with his ideas, since they both lowkey have a savior complex but use different methods. if ren agreed with maruki there would be no conflict in the 3rd semester, which is what maruki would want

sae (judgement): innocent and sweet school boy, model student, unlike priestess who is more self-driven and ambitious, judgement would be more conforming. also determined and righteous (justice driven)

[tamsinbeybey-she-no-porcupine]

bbc Ghosts tattooshop capvers au

okay completely based on @captain-rickbond amazing modern Caphrey drawings:

My brain ran with an Ghosts tattoo shop au and though it's Caphrey bffs of course my brain made it Capvers (no one saw that coming I'm sure😉):

-Robin: tattoo artist style old school has one big lightning tattoo over his whole body nothing else. Does also do stick n poke.

-Humphrey: tattoo artist traditional and neo traditional does classic paintings on the side that he sells ,covered in tattoos himself (based on cap rickbonds drawings)

-Kitty tattoo artist. Style: fineline, floral work, dot work , watercolour and cartoon style

-Mary tattoo artist style: black work specialised in tattoos that look like old book illustrations and sketch style, loves doing witchy tattoos

-Allison tattoo artist photorealism style I. Colour and black and grey

-Cap: store manager

-Thomas: that one customer who gets turned away frequently because he wants face, neck or hand tattoos as his first tattoo

-Julian customer three tattoos one heart with Margot one with Rachel and some pun/innuendo very close if not directly on his gentleman's excuse me. Robin did all of his tattoos

-Fanny: friend of cap does like Humphreys paintings and comes by when she wants to chat, gossip or ask Humphrey to do a portrait of one of her pets (on canvas obviously)

-Pat: customer. friends with all of them no tattoos over shirt lines because he works in a bank. His tattoos are mainly humourous about stuff he loves in cartoon style kitty is his main artist.

-Obi the shop apprentice focuses on graphic style (tattoos that look like graphic design) and / or trash polka

The story:

Cap has few tattoos from different artists. Fineline flowers from kitty and a date that holds great importance to him done by Humphrey, a morsecode tattoo on his chest etc. his tattoos are not visible to others normally. They are small and personal.

Robin has a certificate in how to tattoo scars and made all of his artists learn as well

Havers just moved there and wants to symbolise a new start in life with something beautiful coming out of the scars of the past (upper body/arm scars not the face ones)

He walks in for a consultation and is a bit nervous because first it has to be determined what can be done, if the scars can be integrated and if the goal is to fade them optically or use them to enhance the picture.

It's a busy day and stuff has gone wrong so there's a waiting period and cap gives him tea and they get talking and find out they're both ex military and he's relaxed and smiling by the time robin comes to collect him

During the consultation Havers let's it shine through that he's not exactly sure what he wants style wise so robin who's very old school in wanting to challenge his artists calls them one by one to look at him and asks them to design something that symbolises his wish of a new start

He even calls cap in to ask something about if they still have a specific needle type. Cap sees Havers shirtless and gets extremely flustered. And everyone's like "??" Because normally cap runs the shop like a well oiled machinery but now he can't remember if they have that needle size

Havers returns the week after to look at the designs and the main themes are phoenixes or flowers (a lot of dandelions and lotuses)And cap can see (because he keeps looking🤭) that Havers is a bit overwhelmed with choosing so he brings them all tea and starts chatting with him and it quickly turns out what he really loves from which design so cap suggests they do a collab piece on Havers. And everyone whose in the design gets really excited and of course it means that Havers has to come back for another consultation. By that point the others have caught on that cap is talking to and mentioning that one customer a bit often.

Havers returns the next week and for some reason he got the appointment wrong and is almost an hour early (oh dear) and so that very handsome store manager who is bored on this very slow day takes it upon himself to drink tea with him and chat telling him that he loves the meaning behind his tattoo and that he's in good hands and it'll look awesome on him and he shows him his own tats which makes kitty run to the others and whisper because normally no one gets to see caps tats.

The design is wonderful and Havers loves it but because of size and difficult level aka sitting through the extra spicy pain it's gonna be done in numerous small sessions. And every time cap and him find time to talk to each other or shooting glances at each other.

His colleagues try to get Cap to ask Havers out before it's too late but cap is like that's unprofessional and the guy is here to get a tattoo not be hit on by staff.

With the sessions and the healing process it takes months before the tat is finished and it's very clear to everyone else around them that the attraction between the two is very much mutual

And on the last appointment cap wants to ask him out before he possibly never sees him again but everything goes wrong because Thomas demands that this new poem of his has to go on his neck and Robin argues with him and Julian Fawcett turns up drunk for his appointment and Alison has morning sickness and so cap who waited anxiously for Havers to come pay and say bye had to do the payment real quick and wants to say bye and ask him but then Julian smashes a vase from the counter because he got in on the argument between Thomas and Robin and Havers at one point slips out sad that he didn't got to talk to Cap one last time.

Cap is feeling a bit down over the next weeks and everyone is trying to cheer him up.

A few weeks later Havers is suddenly there again because he lost some lines during healing and Cap wasn't even aware that there was an appointment but Humphrey is like oops forgot to tell you.

The actual appointment is over suspiciously fast. (Aka Humphrey met Havers somewhere accidentally and used to meddle)

And then it's time to say goodbye and Cap can't get the words out and Anthony looks very anxious and he's almost at the door but cap calls out to him, Havers whipping around and cap is like I eh oh well I meant to say...we'll be having a flash day on the third if you're interested.

And something about calling him back just gives Anthony the kick he needed and he informs him that he doesn't think he's the type just yet to get random tats because he's more after meaning. New beginning specifically at the moment which also means new people in his life and there's one person he really likes and wants to get to know even better and then he asks Cap out.

Over the next two years the teasing sentence "cap stop flirting with your boyfriend we're about to open" can be heard almost every day in the shop at which point Havers leans over the counter to collect his daily goodbye kiss before leaving for work.

Havers design btw I'm thinking a phoenix made out of flowers like a flower bomb gone off all over his flank and pieces on his chest and upper arm like flames out of flowers everywhere around the actual bird where there is scarring.

During those two years Havers gets a tattoo of the date of his first appointment underneath the phoenix.

And after that the only clearly visible tattoo Cap has that is done as a collab and on two people who don't have many tattoos (the absolute exception Robin makes which drives Thomas insane) are the wedding ring tattoos for Cap and Havers.

[poetryvampire]

Safe Haven

My heart yearns for the Hellthunder angst. Maybe this is a wee bit self indulgent but I've been thinking about it a lot and just had to get it out there

Summary: Zevlor finds out how Lorroakan treats Rolan.

Words: just over 2k

Cw: abuse, panic attacks, implied sexual abuse, angst, hurt/comfort

Once in Baldur's Gate things were getting better. They had to. There’d be no more ‘sneaking’ around. No more trying to steal pockets of time here and there in the midst of  the chaos of simply trying to stay alive. Rolan had lived for those quiet moments, for the sound of his favourite Hellrider slipping into his tent in the middle of the night. But now they could have something real. Something with stability and- as Rolan hopped with all his might- a future. 

Their bond did flourish despite them being farther apart. Of course Rolan has to stay in Ramazith's tower with his master, whereas Zevlor has a humble apartment in the city. The older man didn't dare ask if Rolan would move in with him if he could, however he made it very clear he was welcome anytime. Even with the apprentice's busy schedule they still spent every second they could at each other's side. It's not long before they’re both completely devoted to each other, even if it’s hard to put into words. Rolan's at Zevlor's every chance he gets, like there's no place in the world he'd rather be. Because there truly isn't.  He adores Zevlor, for his strong and loving nature. Anything Rolan could do to make his life better was the clear choice. He’d been through so much, shouldered so much without asking for anything and Rolan wouldn’t add to his stress. No matter what. 

The paladin doesn't say anything when the visits become less frequent. Ever the gentleman, he won’t be nosey. They’re allowed to have a life outside of each other. He understands Lorroakan's strict and doesn't allow his appearance visitors and hates being interrupted, thus he’s taken to waiting for Rolan instead of checking in on him. But when Rolan leaves him without a word for days on end he starts to worry. Even during all their hardships on the road the younger man had never let a day go by without speaking.

Rolan brushes off any questions. It's always nothing, just his studies or so much work to do. But Zevlor knows him, knows something's wrong, hears the nerves in his voice. He decided not to press matters, just wait and hope for Rolan to confide in him in his own time. But it doesn’t come and the days inbetween only get longer, he barely sees his love once a week. Zevlor tries to prepare himself; he was sure this would happen sooner than later. Rolan is a very handsome young lad, more than the hellrider thought he deserves. He had surely grown tired of the older man and would seek out a more suitable partner. Yet when the wizard does come around he treats him with the same affection as always. It’s puzzling and doesn’t sit right with the paladin.

It's raining buckets the night it happens. Rolan keeps a normal tone but there's a sadness in his eyes that cuts at Zevlor’s heart. He’s trying to sound in good spirits but he’s clearly worn out.  Zevlor pulls him into bed, just for a cuddle and by the way Rolan clings to him it seems to be just what he needed. He’s practically trying to press himself through the older man, who rubs the wizard’s back until the tension starts to ease. Slowly their hands start to travel, Rolan absentmindedly tracing the pattern of ridges on Zevlor’s chest.

“Gods you’re handsome.” Rolan murmurs, finally starting to relax. 

Zevlor chuckled as he rakes his fingers through his beloved’s hair.

“I would say you’re being too kind, but I suppose you are the expert.” Zevlor kissed the top of Rolan’s head as he buried his face in his chest. “Come now, let me see my beautiful boy.” His favourite pet name did not coax the wizard to lift his head, but the rain of kissing on his head and cheek did the trick. In a swift motion Rolan captures Zevlor’s lips, suddenly desperate for his touch he clings to lover as if he may disappear at any moment. The Hellrider’s more than happy to meet his hunger, his hands traveling over Rolan’s slender form. He grips his waist tightly pulling a shudder from him, but a sharp one, rather than pleasurable.   

Zevlor breaks the kiss for a moment before Rolan’s mouth is on him again. 

“I missed you,” he sighs in between kisses. “I missed you so much. I’m so-” 

“It’s okay.” Zevlor coos before one more firm, needly kiss. The words of love die on his lips and are replaced with a frightful gasp as he practically jumps out of his skin. "God's above! Rolan what is this? What's happening?" Zevlors voice is sharp with fear. He head spins, half wondering if he had fallen asleep without realizing it. Rolan's face is littered with cuts and bruises: a deep gash in his left temple, a nasty looking bruise on his left cheek was multicolored as if he had been hit many times in the same place, and his nose looked to be recently broken. 

The last bit of colour drains from Rolan's already pale face, his eyes wide with fear. 

“ No, no no no,” Rolan’s backing away, his hands fly to his face as he mutters a spell. For a moment his face flickers back to normal but returns to his disheveled state a moment later “ Hells, no no!”  

“Rolan!” Zevlor’s barks louder than he had intended. He had a notion of what may be going on but he didn’t want to believe it. “What’s happened to you? Rolan, please!”   

He's never seen the younger man look so distressed in all the years they're known each other. Rolan practically jumps off the bed, skittering away like a frightened cat. His mind was reeling, this was a nightmare and even speaking seemed a struggle.  

 Zevlor’s on his feet, repeating the question as Rolan flees from the room. He never wanted this to happen, especially not like this. Before he knew what he was doing he’s pulling on his robes needing to get as far away from Zevlor as possible. But he doesn’t make it to the door, the former commander yells his name, his voice thundering more threatening than Rolan’s ever heard before. In a second he’s rooted to the spot. 

Rolan doesn’t move. He can’t. He can feel Zevlor behind him, feel his eyes on him but can’t bring himself to look.

“Rolan,” he repeats, voice lower but deadly stern. “Tell me what’s going on.” 

 “I can’t.” the wizard forced out, his head in his hands. Even breathing was painful. His lungs burning trying to hold in the tears. Zevlor was in front of him now, his large hand tight on Rolan’s shoulders holding him in place. “Let me go.” 

“What happened? Who hurt you?” The hellrider demanded feeling that he might combust at any second. “Tell me!” he roars, immediately regretting it. The way Rolan flinches and shirks for him breaks Zevlor’s heart. He must try to steady himself, to be reasonable. 

“Rolan, Please tell me what’s going on. I want to help you.” 

“I’m okay! Really it’s just- it’ll heal and i’ll be-” The wizard stumbles, still hiding his face. 

“You’re not! Has someone attacked you?” Zevlor tries wrenching Rolan’s hands from his face but the way he recoils stops him dead. That and the sight of the matching set of deep bruises on his wrists. “Please let me help you, my heart.” 

“Don’t look at me.” Rolan sobs as tears start to spill. 

“I won’t” Zevlor takes a few steps back, trying to slow his breathing “Just please speak to me.” 

It feels like a lifetime for both of them before the younger man speaks. 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He pauses, searching for words. “L-Lorroakan is a very strict master…” 

Bile rose in the paladin’s stomach and heat ripped through his whole being like a deadly fever. He never liked the man, not for a second, but Zevlor hoped the bastard was just a narcissist, unbearable but not cruel. 

“He hurt you? He put his hands on you?” He tried to keep his voice even but his jaw was tight in an effort not to scream. 

“I- he- It’s usually not this bad-” 

“Usually!” Zevlor barked, he began pacing the room. He couldn’t be still, his very blood was turning to venom. “This has happened before? How long has this been going on?” He doesn’t answer but he does need to. 

“Why would you hide this from me?” Grief and hatred are screaming in the Hellrider’s head. How could he have let this happen?  

Rolan only cries, his whole body trembling. Zevlor tries to steady himself yet again, he must keep himself calm. Of course his anger isn’t for Rolan, he doesn’t want to push him farther but something must be done. Seeing his beloved like this is pulling him apart at the seams.  

 Now it’s Zevlor's turn to run for the room leaving Rolan to choke and pant through his cries. He can’t bear the thought of being pathetic in Zevlor’s eyes. Finally the continuous clinking from the bedroom reaches Rolan’s ears, once again fear bubbles in his gut. 

“Zevlor, what-” but as he walks farther in the room he has his answer. The Hellrider’s already dawned his chainmail and his working on his armor. 

“Rolan,” His voice is low and graveled. So unlike the gentle cadence he’s used to hearing from his lover. “I need you to stay here, okay? Promise me that..And don’t open the door for anyone but me. Use any spell you need-” 

“What are you doing?” Rolan shook his head in disbelief. 

“I’m going to kill him.” He spoke flatly.  

“No! No you can’t!” Rolan at Zevlor’s side trying to pull the shining plates off him as a fresh set of tears litter his cheeks. “Zevlor please, you can’t do this!” 

“I can and will.” He continues despite Rolan’s effort. 

“I won’t let you. “ 

“Look at you!” the paladin cried. “What enchantment has he placed on you for you to defend him? Is that why you’ve hidden this?” 

 “No.” Rolan shook, his face red with shame. 

 “There are many horrors of this world I can withstand. This is not one of them.” Zevlor met his eye, his determination clear. “ He won’t hurt you again.” 

“He’ll kill you, he’ll-” 

“A small sacrifice to rid-” 

“No!” Rolan’s voice was raw, on the edge of breaking. His eyes wide and frantic he clawed at Zevlor’s armor as an animal might fight for its life. “You can’t. Zevlor please I love you! I love you more than myself, more than anything, I need you! I can’t lose you Zevlor I’ll die without you- I love you.” 

 The wizard lost his voice in his long shuddering sobs. Zevlor’s armor hit the floor with a heavy thud, his arms around his love in a moment. 

“I’ve got you.” He’s never felt so conflicted but even as his rage seethed his foremost duty was to ease his beloved’s pain. “We can figure this out, we’ll find a way.” 

“He’s mad. He’s only getting worse, but i don’t have to be back until tomorrow evening and-” 

“You can’t go back there.” Zevlor couldn’t keep the horror from his voice. 

“I must!” Rolan pleaded. “ You don’t understand When things don’t go as planned it’s a nightmare. If he thinks something wrong he- the things he’s threatened, Zevlor. I don’t know how far he could go.” 

“We can stop him.” Zevlor’s voice sounds written in stone, a fact not to be questioned. “And end this. Rolan, I know it’s hard but you must tell me everything. We can find a weakness-” 

“Gods, no.” Again the wizard recoils making the paladin’s heart ache.

“Let me help you, my love.” He doesn’t let Rolan shy away; he keeps him in his arms. 

“If you knew what-If you knew everything you wouldn’t love me anymore.” Rolan forces the words, barely a whisper. 

It feels an eternity before he feels Zevlor’s large, warm hands cupping his face and  raising it to his. It’s a soft kiss, gentle and painfully loving. Even in such a state Rolan feels that familiar weakness in his knees. 

“Rolan,” Zevlor’s glassy eyes studied his face, his voice raw with devotion as if he was swear before the gods themselves. “There isn’t a thing that could befall you that could make me stop loving you. Nothing. Nothing you could say or do, no matter how you look, I’m yours as long as you’ll have me.”  

 The younger man whimpers trying to push words through the tightness in his throat but the paladin just kisses him over and over. On Every inch of his face, bruises and all. 

“You’ll always be my beautiful boy.”  Zevlor affirms between kisses causing Rolan to gasp through a flurry of sobs and laughter. “How can I help you, my heart?” 

“ I need you. I just need you here.” Rolan answers immediately, wrapping his arms tight around his love. “Don’t let me go.” 

 Zevlor couldn’t if he wanted to. Though his heart was heavy, burning with rage, all thoughts of vengeance were silenced. His only desire was to keep Rolan as comfortable as he could. Before long he found himself leading the weary tiefling into a steaming bath. Rolan had always adored bathing together and this time was no different. He could see the tension melt from the wizard’s tight shoulders as he washed him, taking care to kiss and praise every part of him as he went. Afterward Rolan was curled in Zevlor’s lap, both of them lost in the simple pleasure of each other’s warmth. Neither fell asleep that night with any doubt that they could not overcome this together.

[helionpegasus]

Hello! :) I saw your post a bit ago saying you were accepting requests. Anyways, can I please req Azriel x Reader. Reader and Azriel announce they're FINALLY mated, after YEARS off the IC being like, "Are you sureeeeeee you aren't together??" and them laughing it off. But.... Mor forces it out by being like, "Y/N, I have this cute friend...." and she's saying that because she wants them to finally admit it. Honestly I NEED FLUFF. Please, and thank you so so so much!!! <33

i'm on the mood of doing hc, and thought this req would match it so well. i hope you don't mind this being hc 🥹

- You met Mor at Rita's and bounded instantly! Seriously. Born to best friends.

- She presents Azriel to you in the same night, and was like "Cauldron, you look so good together".

- Azriel was slightly drunk that night. Wich made him talk so easily with you. For real, that male was babbling.

- A week after you met him again in a Coffee Shop and said "Hi, Az!" and he just awkwardly waved back.

- You said that to Mor in the weekend and she said he was just shy.

- Later you discovered that this male was shy around YOU.

- Azriel's confidence it's aways high towards any female he finds attractive, but towards YOU? The bat baby get rosy cheeks.

- Your relationship starts to get closer once he returns of a mission with a big cut on his chest and go directly to Madja, but she wasn't there. There was only her apprentice, you.

- You freak out a little, 'cause there was TOO MUCH BLOOD. But do your job really well, and Az was so grateful for you.

- You end up being the first person he runs to everytime he's needing medical assistance.

- A sword slice in his back during a battle? You fix it.

- An ice burn from spending too much time in the annual snowball fight? You can easily recover it.

- A paper cut from the multiple papers in his desk from all his missions of the month? He runs to you.

- The Inner Circle started to be unsure of your friendship when the two of you got so drunk that ended sleeping in the floor of the living room.

- Your head landing comfortably on his arm. His head resting on yours and his wing covering you body because the heat in the fireplace was long gone.

- They were almost sure you guys do have a things when Cassian says "It would be a pleasure to have you in my bed"

- The shadowsinger was FUMING. He was ready to start a battle with Cass in the middle of the dinner table. (Rhys had to calm him down)

- After that Az had a moment with himself to settle down and recognize his own feelings.

- The male was deeply IN LOVE. There was nothing more to do other than accept it.

- He gained the courage to ask you out on a date.

- "A romantic kind of date?" You asked him.

- "Yes." He said. His brain ready to combust if you reject him.

- "Sure. Where we're going" And the Illyrian male never smiled more brightly.

- You guys go to an Art Exhibit in Velaris. With works of multiple artist towards Prythian.

- His heart skips a beat everytime he sees your eyes shining seeing a piece you really liked.

- Later you go to a restaurant to have dinner, and you start having a deep conversation about the paintings and sculptures that got a place in your hearts.

- Azriel listening to every tiny feeling you had during the visit.

- He's a gentleman so he pays the bill and walked you to your apartment.

- Once you reached the door, you take the first step and kissed him.

- Your first kiss with each other was like landing on clouds. His lips so soft and gentle. His hands finding their place in your waist and in the back of your neck. Your arms around his shoulders.

- When you distance yourselves for a little breath and locked gazes, the bond snapped. For both of you.

- The world makes sense now.

- Once you two got inside that apartment, you don't leave it for 2 weeks. (You know what I mean)

- Azriel said to Rhys he got an emergency with his mom. Because he don't want to share any bit of you with anyone yet.

- "I think it's time for us to leave our bubble." You says caressing his hair. His face tucked in the space where your neck meets your shoulder.

- "I think you're right." He whispers, but makes no intention of leaving the place in your arms.

- Your bubble of happiness and comfort was gone in the day after. When you too appeared in the dinner on the River House.

- You arrived there first because Feyre needed some help with Nyx.

- Azriel got some duties after giving himself the sweet taste of 2 weeks without working.

- The mismatch made you sit apart from each other. But you stayed the whole time sending each other love pulls through the bond.

- Somehow the conversation went to relationships. And Mor says that you all should go to Rita's and find a lover for the night.

- You can feel Az mood change through the bond.

- "Mor, I think we all settled down at this point" Feyre said between giggles.

- "I, Y/N and Az are fully single" she says looking at you.

- The bond was burning hot from Azriel's jealously.

- "Y/N, I have a really cute friend that I think you'll like to meet" Mor said.

- "She's not interested." Azriel says in a hard tone.

- The whole IC stops eating to look at him, dumbfounded.

- Cassian with the biggest grim ever sharing glances with Rhys, probably talking in their minds.

- Feyre with wide eyes looking at Azriel and how he was ready to stab Mor with the knife he was cutting the meat.

- Mor switching glances between you and Az.

- "Do you guys want to tell something to us?" Rhysand asks leaning his back comfortably in the chair, ready to hear the story.

- Azriel only looks at you, before letting go of the thick shadows around him. Freeing his scent to your friends.

- Not only his scent, but YOUR scent. And mostly the scent of THE BOND.

- Cass didn't waste time and hugged his friend with shouts of happiness.

- Feyre and Mor coming to you while Nyx was babbling in his mother arms not understanding what's happening but happy whatsoever.

- Amren, Nesta and Elain just smiling and giving their congratulations.

- "So... Emergency with your mom, right?"

[devildom-moss]

Happy 1 year anniversary to your blog! ❤️

Can I request gn! reader on their first date with Meph in nightbringer

hope you have a great day/night ^^

Thank you for the request. I had so much fun with it that I might have taken longer on it and made it a little longer than I should have. Oh well!

1 year anniversary flash request event - SFW

(Mephistopheles x gn!MC)

Prompt 9 - First date

How did this even happen? Mephisto wondered as he opened his car door for you, taking the opportunity to inconspicuously ogle at you as you got in.

You had taken the initiative and invited him out for a drink. His flustered, wide-eyed face confused you as the words tumbled from his mouth: “A-are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah, that was my intention,” you shrugged.

“Why, I never –! A human of all the –!” Mephisto mumbled to himself.

“What? I think you’re cute.” You furrowed your brows. “Have you never been asked on a date before?”

“I’ve been asked out before; I just never accepted. I’ve never had any interest before.”

“Before? So, you have interest now?”

“I didn’t say that, you impudent human!” Mephisto crossed his arms defensively, heat rising in his cheeks.

“Well, I suppose you might not be an ideal date anyway – due to the lack of experience and what not,” you teased.

“How dare you! I’m a gentleman. I would make an astounding escort –”

“Who said anything about an escort?”

“Escort on a date! Not a – forget it.” Mephisto mumbled. “I’ll pick you up at Cocytus Hall at 7pm tomorrow night. Wear something nice but comfortable!”

With that, he stormed off – just in time to hide the smile that cracked through his indignant façade.

He brought you to a nice restaurant – not quite as upscale as Ristorante Six, but you knew he had called ahead and leveraged his name (perhaps even slipped some money towards the establishment) to get this reservation. Now that you were sitting across from him, with his handsome face and his dignified suit that somehow outshined his god-awful taste in neckwear, you were starting to feel nervous. He picked up on that.

“Relax. You’re the one who asked me out, after all,” Mephisto sounded annoyed, but he stared at you with a reassuring smile. “You look lovely tonight. Just act like your usual, barely-tolerable self, and you’ll be fine. I’m here with you. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you for agreeing to go out with me.” You smiled and let out a sigh of relief. Mephisto cleared his throat to distract from the sudden warmth that flooded his face.

Not too surprisingly, Mephisto was an excellent conversationalist. You were delighted when you actually managed to make him laugh so much that he looked surprised as he tried to quiet his laughter – as if he hadn’t expected you to be so funny, or maybe he hadn’t expected to enjoy your company so much.

After dinner, you expected him to promptly take you home, but instead, he offered you his arm and took you for a walk down the street. You didn’t mind, but you asked him nonetheless, “Where are we going?”

“That’s a surprise. You wouldn’t want to ruin a surprise, now, would you?”

A short but rather relaxing stroll later, Mephisto stopped at a small, almost shady-looking shop. After a wonderful dinner, you decided you owed Mephisto the benefit of the doubt and walked into the shop when he held the door open for you. The shop was filled with (shockingly clean and organized) shelves, each one stacked with intriguing knick-knacks and magical items. You could feel the magic just by walking through the doorway.

Somehow, in response to almost anything that piqued your interest, Mephisto had some kind of insight or background knowledge. And you thought Satan and Solomon were the nerds.

“You’re so knowledgeable,” you admired him. “But what made you think to bring me here?”

“You’re studying under Solomon, aren’t you? I figured the wise sorcerer’s apprentice might appreciate something like this. And I’m not that knowledgeable; I did a write up on this place a few weeks ago. I’m a little disappointed you didn’t have the chance to read it.”

You stifled a laugh at his slight pout. “Still, it looks like you retained a lot of that information. That’s pretty cool.”

Mephisto smiled at your praise. “If something in particular catches your eye, let me know before we leave. I’ll get it for you – and no, it’s not any trouble. I’m happy to provide you with a memento of our date. Consider it a reward for being surprisingly good company.”

“You didn’t have to say ‘surprisingly.’”

Mephisto looked around quickly before leaning in and stealing a quick kiss in the middle of the shop. “Consider that one a reward for the adorably stupid faces you make when you’re annoyed at me.”

“You’re awful,” you lied.

“I know.” Mephisto smirked and stole another kiss from you. This time, he lingered on your lips. “Thank you for asking me out.”

A/N: requests are still open for the rest of today if anyone else wants to enter. (rules here) I probably won't get to all of the SFW requests, but I may be able to finish them up tomorrow or the day after.

[apprenticestanheight]

Watch the World Burn- Mark Hoffman x fem! reader

all right! This account has been a little dry in terms of my ability to write and put out requests lately but that DOES have a reason--I'm dealing with some personal health concerns at the moment and I got a cold four days ago. Before that it was a combination of demotivation and studying nearly ten hours in a week to get my learners permit, but I do acknowledge I could've at least given writing a try in the midst of it all.

This was meant to be a fic but I realized part way through that I was writing it in the way that I tend to write headcanons, so thats what this came out as.

This fic was requested by the lovely @capan-deveraux2! If you're reading, I hope you like this one and I am SO SORRY about the delay!

Fic type- this is pretty fluffy!

Warnings- mentions of fire, this fic has been edited but the editing was somewhat a skim--I apologize for any grammatical mistakes as my thoughts can sometimes move faster than I can type! Also, this is my first ever mark centric fic so he might be a tad ooc (also haven't rewatched the saw films since I finished up with saw 3D last month so that could also contribute)

Mark is generally the type of person to be cool, level headed. He can admit that, on occasion, he's quicker to anger than most and his temper when angered is probably something worth working on, but when he's around you all of that kind of ceases to matter.

He keeps the cool natured, relaxed off-duty cop thing within himself as he goes about meeting your parents over dinner. He finds he likes their company well enough--your mother has retired and is happily living off a good pension, where your father has five years to go and talks excitedly about his and your mothers plan to move somewhere like Scotland when he's finally able to retire.

The only point where Mark lets the version of him that isn't the perfect gentleman slip is when your father gives him a compliment.

"I'm glad to see that my daughter has found someone so lovely," he says, and Mark has to give himself a second to process it because like...like...??

He's not a good person--being a disciple and apprentice of Jigsaw would inherently demerit such claims, wouldn't it? He acknowledges he's not good and that prompts his reaction.

"Well, not really," he says. "I mean--I would make a thousand mistakes if Y/N was put in harms way. I would do a thousand immoral things, I would watch the world burn, just to make sure she was okay in the end."

your parents have similar reactions to that

your mom is reaching across the table, taking your hands in hers and going "are you sure about him?" in the way that supportive, but concerned mothers usually do.

Your father is staring at Mark, mouth agape, and is thinking like:

well...that's...interesting.

In the end though, your mother speaks up for both of them.

"Good," she says. "It's good that our Y/N has found someone willing to do that much. You love her?"

"More than anything." Mark says, and the both of you know that he means it.

"And you love...him?" Your father asks.

You nod, because you do. You love him wholeheartedly, truly, and you would watch the world burn if it meant he emerged from the embers.

Your parents find themselves assured--albeit a little unsettled by the way in which such knowledge came about--by the knowledge that he loves you deeply and that you have found someone you can love just as much, and the dinner resumes as it had been before, laughter and joy enveloping the dining room.

[mermaidsirennikita]

A few people have asked me for the recs that come with my historical romance archetype quiz in full, and since it's been around a week and I've been procrastinating.... Here they are, in order of popularity (check your triggers, as always):

The Good Guy (by far the winning result... which saddens me a little as a reader but I respect your life and your choices):

Unclaimed by Courtney Milan--virgin hero, sex worker heroine, he's a genuinely lovely man

Scandal in Spring by Lisa Kleypas--a lot of people like Matthew Swift, I like Matthew Swift, there's a very good scene where she hides a key in her bodice and is like COME FIND IT

My Fake Rake by Eva Leigh--gender-flipped She's All That retelling with a nerdy hero who fake dates his equally nerdy friend while being super in love with her

Unmasked by the Marquess by Cat Sebastian--this blurs into a rake vibe, but the hero is a disaster bi who falls in love with his new best friend, only to find out that said best friend is not a man but in fact AFAB and NB; there is a delightful scene in which he watches them from across a ballroom while they pull their glove off with their teeth that lives rent-free in my head

Gentleman in the Streets, Freak in the Sheets:

The Duke Gets Even by Joanna Shupe--THEEEEEE PRIME EXAMPLE, "I'm going to cover you in bite marks, darling" Duke of Lockwood I'm your biggest fan

The Duke Who Knew Too Much by Grace Callaway--the one where the duke is like "oh my god girl I didn't murder anyone I'm just into tying people up consensually"

Waking Up with the Duke by Lorraine Heath--the one where the hero's cousin asks the hero to knock up the cousin's wife and the hero is like "I mean because you asked nicely"; SUPREME angst

The Earl I Ruined by Scarlett Peckham--uptight earl is slandered by the heroine who insinuates that he likes submitting in the bedroom; incorrect, he actually wants to tie her tf up

The Truth About Cads and Dukes by Elisa Braden--marriage of convenience with the world's most uptight duke and a heroine who thinks he finds her plain and fat and gross when in fact he mostly just spends his time restraining himself from doing nasty things to her

Villain Recs:

Devil in Winter by Lisa Kleypas--because you gotta, though St. Vincent is a softer touch villain than some ("he wouldn't have actually... done it... riiiight?")

Duke of Sin by Elizabeth Hoyt--a kidnapping loony tunes hero who blackmails everyone, stabs freely, and calls the heroine the wrong name for like 70% of the book; he also stabs someone while completely naked except for his pink robe

The Dragon and the Pearl by Jeannie Lin--Tang Dynasty evil warlord hero kidnaps heroine to use her for information, then realizes he's falling in love

Shadowheart by Laura Kinsale--medieval assassin hero forces the heroine into marriage for his evil plot, makes her his apprentice in evil, then realizes he SUUUUPER likes it when she doms him

The Prince of Broadway by Joanna Shupe--hero owns a casino and becomes the rebellious heroine's mentor, but is secretly plotting to destroy her father

Daring and the Duke by Sarah MacLean--hero was the villain of two previous books and maybe tried to kill the heroine when they were kids, either way she's super mad about it but oops he's OBSESSED with her

Tortured Hero Recs:

My Darling Duke by Stacy Reid--hero has had to use a wheelchair due to mobility issues after an accident, becomes very reclusive and angsty, until he finds out the heroine has been pretending to be engaged to him...

Dreaming of You by Lisa Kleypas--Derek Craven was born in a drainpipe, named himself, and essentially was a sex worker until he made his way up in the world, now feels completely not good enough for the intrepid novelist who's stolen his heart

A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall--hero has survivor's guilt and chronic pain + a laudanum addiction after surviving the Battle of Waterloo when his best friend died... twist is that his best friend faked her death so that she could transition and live as who she really is, and now they met up again for the first time in years without him realizing it's her

Pippa and the Prince of Secrets by Grace Callaway--scarred hero reunites with his childhood sweetheart, who's now widowed and way above him in social station... but she's also tortured, and they come to find solace in each other (also: her old husband told her that pursuing her desires was wicked; hero DISAGREES)

Duke of Midnight by Elizabeth Hoyt--literally Georgian Batman, he is the night, also he has a home gym

The Duke I Tempted by Scarlett Peckham--super tortured duke who hides his masochistic tendencies from the world enters into a marriage of convenience with a woman he believes will reject him if she realizes what he wants

A Rogue by Any Other Name by Sarah MacLean--local man who lost his inheritance and land in a game of dice shows up again after years and forces his childhood friend to marry him so that he can reclaim WHAT IS HIS!!! (both the estate and her)

Rake Recs:

Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake by Sarah MacLean--prototypical rake book, Ralston is all "my God woman, binding your breasts is a crime and I am here to save them"

The Duke and the Lady in Red by Lorraine Heath--this guy's mom literally shows up at his house and is like "please tell me you've cleaned this place since the last orgy"; he then gets taken in by a con woman and learns how to love

The Lady Gets Lucky by Joanna Shupe--hero's not taken seriously by anyone because he's such a playboy; he makes a deal to teach the shy heroine sex stuff in exchange for recipes so he can start a SUPPER CLUB and prove himself as a Srs Person

A Rake's Guide to Seduction by Caroline Linden--hero is a ne'er do well rake who realizes he's fallen for his best friend's little sister right when she's proposed to by another man; years later they meet up when she's a depressed widow, and he brings her to life if you know what I mean

Indigo by Beverly Jenkins--hero is a VERRRRRYYYYY smooth rake who also helps free enslaved people in the Underground Railroad, gets the shit beaten out of of him and ends up being cared for by the quiet and practical heroine; and he's like "HOLY SHIT SHE'S THE ONE"

Scot Recs:

When A Scot Ties the Knot by Tessa Dare--heroine makes a Big Mistake and ends up having to marry the gruff hero, but it's only a handfasting so as long they don't consummate the marriage it won't be legit--SIMPLE ENOUGH

When a Girl Loves an Earl by Elisa Braden--heroine becomes obsessed with local giant man, doesn't even realize he's Scottish until she's trapped him in marriage and he drops the English accent and it is a RIIIIIDE for her from there

The Taming of a Highlander by Elisa Braden--heroine ends up having to marry physically and emotionally scarred hero in order to avoid testifying against him, he's all "YE WON'T BE ABLE TO TAKE ME LASS" and she's like "oh bet"

The Highland Guard series by Monica McCarty--medieval Scottish books "what if Robert the Bruce made a Suicide Squad and they were all hot"

The Madness of Lord Ian MacKenzie by Jennifer Ashley--widow heroine ends up in a FWB situation with the hero, who is on the spectrum and considered "mad" by many; then shit gets complicated

When a Girl Loves an Earl by Stacy Reid--heroine gets pregnant by another man and runs to Scotland to marry this guy she's been writing platonic letters to; he agrees to claim her baby; hero is mute and they communicate through written notes at first, but the heroine learns sign language to make it easier for him, super emotional

[little-paperboat]

What We Owe To Each Other (2&3)

HELLO ROLAN NATION

I come bearing gifts for the very patient readers and to make amends for my three-months break, namely 7,000 words split into two chapters, a fight, a hug, and lots of emotional rollercoasters.

I am very sad that it took me so long to finish this part of the story, but I am very relieved that it's finally out - I can now focus on the main story and bring more Tav and Rolan into everyone's lives. I'm not too sure when I will be able to post next, maybe in a week or two, but I will let you know. You can follow the tag “series:forbidden fire” here on tumblr to not miss when it comes out! :)

In the meantime, a little sneak peek under the cut, as usual.

It's good to be back :)

Read on AO3 (2 & 3/3)

Read Part 1: Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle (2/2)

Read Part 2: Through Shadows To The Edge Of Night (3/3)

If the sun failed to rise today, Rolan didn’t think he’d care.

It was still dark outside when he woke up from another sleepless night; his body sore and aching, heart barely beating anymore, the overwhelming bitterness of desperation the only tangible proof that he was still alive.

His fingers grazed his cheekbone and he flinched at the pain, a sharp hiss leaving his lips. If Lorroakan kept beating him like this, he’d surrender his last breath before the next tenday.

Another day meant another torment, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to simply take it. To say, yes master, sorry master. To keep up the charade, to pretend that he couldn’t break Lorroakan in two by snapping his fingers. Day after day he felt it: his magic growing, pulsing; yearning to break free and to flood every cell of his body. It would surge and soar, a blinding wave of power that would annihilate everything around him, calling the Weave to his aid so intensely that Mystra herself would have no choice but to command him for it. A part of him feared this— if the dam were to break, he’d be pulled under the tidal wave too and would drown in it, overwhelmed. But a part of him craved it: to tame the storm and to unleash his rage, to ride the high of his wrath and take revenge on the tyrant.

Rolan had never been a violent man. Truth be told, he despised violence: one should know how to behave. To resort to fists was most unbecoming of a wizard and any self-respecting gentleman: if he ever fought, it was out of utmost necessity - to protect his siblings, or himself. He wasn’t too proud to admit that he had had a few altercations back in Elturel, but there had been no other choice. Once to defend Cal from a vengeful human who assaulted him, blaming the Descent on his infernal heritage. And before that, when he had been a child himself with no one to look after him. The memory of brutality he experienced back then had never fully disappeared, even after so many years; faded but never forgotten. Now, it was back in full force, and in him stirred a dark, maddening urge to burn.

He sighed, anxiety tightening his chest, his unsettling thoughts adding to his unrest. Mornings like this, he wondered what was the point of it all; to walk out there, take the spot that he hated so behind the wooden counter to let the world see his shame, for his master wouldn’t let him heal nor conceal. If they ask, you’ll tell them the truth: that you are a careless, worthless apprentice who should learn his place before he can pretend to learn real magic.

The humiliations blended together: fresh bruises replaced the older ones, and the light in his eyes dimmed with every rising sun.

But surely he could endure a little longer.

Just a little longer. For Cal. For Lia. To show them he was brave, to prove to them that he would still make it.

With a groan he got up, taking off his nightclothes with care to not reopen the wounds on his ribs. Despite his pain he refused to give up and kept putting on a set of respectable nightclothes after sunset, out of principle, because it still mattered to him. Whatever was left of his dignity, he had to preserve it.

Yes. He could endure a little longer. If anything, because Tav had asked him to.

Tav.

Annoying, meddlesome, infuriating Tav, who showed up out of the blue to turn his world upside down once again.

Frustrating, vexing, obstinate Tav, who couldn’t take “no” for an answer and bent the rules of the universe to do as she pleased.

He used to think he hated her; now he couldn’t remember why. But maybe it would be better if he still did, for hate was such an easy emotion to feed and such a great outlet for all his sorrows. He could never do that anymore though; not when she was the reason why he was still alive and his family too. Not when she had been so kind while he had been so rough, not when she had made a point to prove him wrong twice. Not when she had planted the seeds of hope back in his heart, to which he held onto with all his strength with a desperation he didn’t know he had.

A few days, at most.

With every sunrise he waited to see her walking back in the shop, fierce and proud, with her signature shit-eating grin and that lovely pout of hers.

Back for him, somehow, to save the world and his sorry self at the same time.

But every sunset dashed his expectations. How long were a few days supposed to be?

— Read the rest on AO3 :)

(c) divider by saradika

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

For You, I'd Paint the World Red

Prompt: They hadn't meant to do it. They really hadn't meant to lose control of their magic. But they couldn't help it. And maybe, just maybe... they were glad they did it. Or the one where MC destroys an entire coven of witches and adopts a kid on the way.

Pairing: Mammon x GN!MC

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

TW: Arson, implied child abuse, please let me know if there is anything else I should add.

AN: Is it just me, or does anyone else get frighteningly vivid dreams that they turn into fanfics so they can share this weird cocktail of feelings and emotions with everyone who's interested? This is very self-indulgent, btw. I just want MC to be allowed to go crazy sometimes. Feral even. We believe in murderous MC supremacy in this house.

Elliot Crowe belongs to my absolute darling of a friend @doodlboy <3 thank you for letting me use your mc in this little thing. This will also be a series of sorts, so please look forward to that ^^

"This is the last one MC."

(e/c) eyes looked up at the sorcerer. Elliot smiled, earning a sigh of relief in return from Solomon's prized apprentice. A very tired, ready-to-fall-asleep-standing apprentice.

"I'm glad," they yawned, stretching their arms over their head as they followed him to the transportation array. "I swear, once I'm done, I'm heading to back home and sleeping for the next three weeks."

"You've certainly earned it," the man hummed, offering his hand, like the gentleman he was. The two stepped onto the array, Elliot activating it with a simple incantation.

A few seconds later, the pair found themselves in front of the last coven's mansion. The massive structure was creeping into the nearby forest, where the younger of the two could make out glowing spectres darting through the trees.

"Tastefully decorated," Elliot remarked, drawing their attention back to the imposing building in front of them. It looked like a normal mansion, from what they could see; nothing particularly stood out a first glance. But there was a slight feeling of difference, something only those sensitive to magic would notice. They had been getting this feeling at nearly every coven they visited.

MC was glad that these visits to the supernatural were once every twenty years. The aim of these 'inspections' was to make sure that the other supernatural members of the world upheld their end of the various treaties and contracts signed by them with the Sorcerer's Society.

MC had met Elliot a few times before through Solomon. Elliot Crowe was the apprentice of one of Solomon's old friends, and almost like a son to the white-haired man. This meant that the sorcerer often checked up on him, resulting in the two young humans bonding over the woes of apprenticeship and making fun of Solomon's age, much to his chagrin.

This friendship was what lead to the two pairing up when the audits were announced. Elliot and MC were chosen to inspect the covens of witches who practised magic under the Sorcerers Society's careful supervision, both major and minor.

All those they had visited up till now were incredibly interested in helping humans at best, and wanting absolutely nothing to do with anyone outside their coven at worst. Either way, it was a somewhat ideal first time doing this for them, even if it was a bit tedious.

They weren't kidding about sleeping for 3 weeks. Belphies pact mark was glowing faintly, almost as if recognizing their wish to indulge in his sin.

Elliot cleared his throat. His eyes locked onto theirs, an uncharacteristic seriousness in them that startled MC enough to chase away their fatigue momentarily. A shiver went up their spine as they felt him put up a magical charm to avoid any eavesdroppers from hearing his next words.

"The coven we're inspecting now," he began, his tone low and firm, "is the one the Society is most wary of, MC. The witches here are known to have made and to look for ways to make, pacts with a large number of demons."

"While most of their pacts are lesser demons, they have a contract with someone rather important in the Devildom. Someone you know quite well."

They didn't have to ask whom. In all the their years of staying at the Devildom, they knew only one notable demon who had a pact- wait, contract?

Elliot seemed to have sensed their confusion as he clarified, "Despite what many think, Mammon didn't actually make a pact with the witches. He signed a contract, presumably one that acts almost like a pact and has nearly the same pull. For what, nobody knows."

They did. They knew exactly why Mammon signed such a disadvantageous contract. But it wasn't their place to spill his secrets. Instead they asked, "Does the Society know what are the conditions of the contract?"

"No," Elliot frowned, his displeasure on not knowing more showing clearly on his face. "No, they don't. The covens are entitled to privacy and secrecy when it comes to things like contracts with demons as long as they're not wreaking havoc on humans. As long as no humans are hurt, the Society mostly lets them be." His voice drops down to a whisper, even though there is no chance of anyone overhearing them because of the charm he'd cast earlier. "But recently, there has been a large number of missing human cases in this area. And well, this particular coven has always been a little shady."

"That's rich, coming from you," MC snorted, elbowing Elliot lightly in an attempt to relieve some of the tension. Elliot graced them with an exasperated smile. "Very funny, but that's not the point. Now listen carefully. Once we go inside, I will need you to distract them-"

"... Don't tell me I have to dress in drag and do the hula.."

"As funny as it would be, no. Make small talk, use some of your 'little human' charm on them," Elliot hummed. "Whatever you need to do to make sure that you are the only one they pay attention to. Make it seem like you are novice to all of this, as unthreatening as possible. Make them underestimate you."

"Hm. Sounds like something I can do."

"Good. I'll try to slip away unnoticed at a point to actually investigate, so don't worry if you can't see me."

"What do you want out of this Elliot? Or more accurately, what does the Society want?"

"Some proof that their suspicions are right about the coven." A reason to exterminate them went unsaid.

"Alright. I'll do my best."

"You always do."

"And this, is our archives. Please come in, dearest sorcerers."

MC took a big breath and did as they were told, quickly stepping into the room. Their jaw was aching from the dopey smile they had plastered on ever since entering the premises. Just a little longer, they thought to themself, thinking back to how they had lost sight of Elliot halfway into their tour, the coven head not even realizing.

For a coven potentially doing shady things, they sure were lax with their security.

Melvara, the coven head, finally seemed to notice Solomon's absence. "Um, where is Sir Elliot, if I may ask?"

"Oh, he said he needed to use the restroom. He'll be here soon, but wow! This room is huge!" MC grinned, spinning lightly in place as if trying to take in everything. Truthfully speaking, it was not much. They lived in the Devildom with 7 very wealthy brothers, a demon prince who took pleasure in spoiling his friends, and a demon butler who was more attentive and observant than anyone they had ever known. Their mentor was arguably the best sorcerer alive, if a little eccentric, and they had endeared themself to even angels. Needless to say, they were spoiled rotten when it came to once in a lifetime experiences.

Thankfully, Melvara seemed to buy their act, giving them a proud smile. "I'm glad you think so. Now, how about we have some tea while we wait for Sir Elliot to come back? The archives are the last stop before the Forest of a Thousand Spectres, after all."

They hummed, sitting down at the seat offered to them, eyes still taking in everything down to the last detail. Elliot's words had assured them that this would be one report that would require them to go into heavy detail.

The door to the archives opened for the second time.

(E/c) eyes turned to the witch that entered the room, head respectfully bowed and voice reverent as she presented them with tea and snacks. They gave her a sweet smile, watching in carefully veiled amusement as she blushed and nearly spilled the hot beverage. It was cute how a simple smile was enough to put people at ease. After a few hurried apologies and not-so-subtle glances at them, the witch left the room. For a few minutes, there was blissful silence.

"Say, sorcerer MC?"

"Yes?"

"Pardon my forwardness, but I had heard that you have pacts with all seven of the avatars of sin?"

MC hummed, a pleasant smile on their face. "I do," they said, noting the interest in her eyes. Melvara leaned slightly forward, her eyes gleaming with something that made them pause for a second. Right, don't underestimate the other party, they thought to themself chidingly.

"An admirable feat. May I be so bold as to.. offer you some advice?"

Did they really look that gullible?

"Of course, I would love to learn from my elders."

They hadn't meant to do it.

They really hadn't meant to lose control of their magic.

But they couldn't have helped it.

Not when Elliot burst into the archive room, eyes filled with disdain and murderous intent; holding an unconscious girl in his arms. A very familiar child, one they had yet to meet face to face but had seen plenty of pictures of.

They watched with dark satisfaction as flames engulfed the accursed manor and the forest around it. Screams of the witches stuck inside echoed into the darkness, and MC instinctively covered the ear of the girl who now lay in their arms, still unconscious. The few who had no hand in any of the heinous crimes their brethren had committed cowered somewhere behind them.

The Forest of a Thousand Spectres never looked as hauntingly beautiful as it did now.

A hand on their shoulder had them instinctively cradle the girl closer to their chest. A side glance at Elliot, who had the same blank look on his face. "You can go home MC. I'll report this myself," he said, voice barely above a whisper but firm. Not a suggestion then.

MC nodded, the only indication that they had heard him. Elliot sighed. "What.. are you thinking of doing about her, MC?"

"I'm taking her home."

"She's is the only living witness to the atrocities this coven committed. The Society will wish to talk to her."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Another sigh. "Very well. I'll see you after I've reported the incident and" -he looked over to the terrified witches, the innocent ones, who shrank away the moment his gaze was placed on them- "taken care of them."

"Sure," they said, tearing their eyes away from the flames for a just moment to watch Elliot teleport himself and the witches away, presumably to the Society's headquarters.

They did the same moments later, appearing in their room. MC carefully lowered the girl onto their bed, gentle hands adjusting the blankets to offer comfort and warmth. Satisfied with their work, they pulled a chair close to the bed and sat on it. A breathless chuckle escaped from their lips as they felt the slight trembling in their hands. Their eyes scanned the teenager, sleeping soundly under Elliot's recovery spell.

The fact that a simple recovery spell made her fall unconscious spoke volumes about the pain she had suffered.

MC brushed a strand of hair away from her face, vaguely thinking about Mammon's reaction when he finds out exactly what the sweet little girl had been through. They stole another glance at her, then picked up their DDD.

S.S Audit Stuff (Lucifer, Solomon, Elliot and you)

You: Lucifer. Solomon.

You: We need to talk.

You: Meet me in my room.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

A Swallow's Symphony In Spring (16/18)

Chapter 16 - There is no Choir Like Their Song

<- Previous | Masterpost | Next ->

----

Warnings: None (I don't think)

Word Count: 2731

----

Logan sighed deeply. Placing down his pen just as a steaming cup of tea was placed beside his stack of paperwork that sat beside him on the desk, looking up, he saw Janus smiling down at him. 

“How is everything going, my dear?” Janus asked, perching himself on the corner of the desk in order to not mess up any of Logan’s neatly organised papers.

“Well,” Logan said, tapping the pile he was currently working on primly on the desk. “It seems undoing all of the harmful legislation the king and queen wrote will be a slow process - there is a lot of it and we’ll need to deal with the cortiers in order to work through it. As well as that, the other kingdoms have noticed our presence, and if we do not communicate our intentions with them diplomatically I fear it could lead to conflict of various magnitudes.”

Janus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Meanwhile the palace is still in shambles, Virgil is still miserable, and half the townsfolk are already demanding change. It’s barely been two weeks.” They ran a hand down the side of their face. “I think the time has come for a public announcement - and we must actually get moving with reappointing staff and dealing with the nobility as well.”

With a nod, Logan took a sip of his tea, “I believe you are right - perhaps we can gauge how the citizens feel about our plans now that the bloodlust has died down…”

—-

Things were settling down quickly for Emile Picani as the weeks went by. 

Considering how other’s lives had changed, he was lucky, he supposed, to be able to keep his job in the palace at all. Though he was just a doctor, and boy did this kingdom need a doctor right now. 

He was lucky too that the revolutionaries had brought with them a few helping hands in the medical department. A young, skilled apprentice named Patton who seemed more than happy to answer to Emile and an older gentleman who had joined him too - all for the better, considering the amounts of wounds sustained by the palace guards and revolutionaries alike during the attack. It was upsetting to see. 

Despite all the work, however, Emile rather liked the changes that were being made by the two in charge around the palace now. The place had already began to feel more welcoming with the comings and goings of ordinary folk, the way they had kept the banquet halls open for anyone who may need it made Emile’s heart flutter - the way he was able to really, truly help people rather than having to wait around for the poor Prince to be hurt and be able to do nothing to really help. 

Besides… This new reform did come with the addition of a rather cute guardsman…

“Hello again, Remy,” Emile said, punctuated with a small giggle as he turned to once again see the handsome guard at his door. “What ailments have you come here with today hm?”

He had been coming to the medical wing - to Emile’s office in particular - every other day with new problems and ailments despite every time Emile finding nothing wrong. He had started to think there was something more to it, but he’d keep playing along until Remy gave in. 

“Well, babe, if you’re asking…”

—

Lady Patty had been one of the first of the royal guards to switch sides and turn on the palace when they were attacked that night. As the head of the Royal guard, many others who disliked the Queen had followed her lead. Patty had been working in the palace for longer than many of the other guards had been alive. It took a lot of work to get to the position she had been in before, but somehow she found the position she was in now much more enjoyable. 

She still wore armour, still had a sword strapped to her back - call it years of training and paranoia, but she hated being without it - but now instead of standing rigid and ready to fight she was one of the few who had been trusted to take care of the people coming to the palace in need of help. And she was still in charge of the guards who had denounced their loyalty to the Queen too. Now she was here to protect people she really did care about. 

Janus and Logan were such wonderful young men, doing a lot to help their previously dying kingdom. Already she could feel the tentatively uplifted spirits amongst the townspeople in need as they came up into the Palace’s banquet hall to eat hot meals prepared fresh by Burgundy and her army of chefs in the kitchens. She enjoyed handing out free blankets and supplies to people who had been left with nothing by the old Queen, it left her feeling like she was really truly making a difference. 

She really enjoyed being able to lead a troop of guards into the city knowing that they were there to help, and not to hurt under orders. People were still scared when they gathered for announcements, but she had hope that that would change given enough time. 

Everything was still coming together, and she didn’t know exactly where they would end up, but she had faith that it would be somewhere better than where they were. 

—-

Janus wanted him to talk to Roman.

Remus was pacing.

How could he possibly talk to Roman after everything that had happened? Everything he had done? How could he possibly stand there whilst his brother was locked up in a cell and apologise. 

What if Roman hated him? What if Roman didn’t hate him?

What would he do if Roman forgave him? He had been drowning in this guilt for years over leaving him. The way he had done it was over the top, gruesome and unfair, he shouldn’t have subjected Roman to that, the way he had ‘died’ - Virgil had let slip that Roman had been having nightmares… How much of that was Remus’ own fault? How much misery had he caused the brother he loved? And how was he supposed to face him and his endless grace after that?

He knew Roman would forgive him. That was the problem. 

Part of him wanted that forgiveness. Escaping the guilt that had plagued him, having his brother back, he wanted it so badly, but…

Did he really deserve it?

Remus sure as hell didn’t think so. 

He supposed that wasn’t really for him to decide, was it?

—-

Remy both loved and hated this job. 

The Prince was chill, fairly reserved which kinda surprised him just based on what Janus’ kid had said about him. The way he’d been described was something bright and vibrant. Right now he looked like someone had dumped a bucket of water over a fire and left the old wood there. 

He supposed the poor guy was locked up in a cell. 

Ever since Remus had faked his brother’s death (and wow, it was a lot to think about how he was one of the only people who knew that secret - him, Janus, Virgil and Remus himself) talking to Roman had been… weird. It seemed the poor kid was just getting worse and worse, Remy wouldn’t be surprised if he was depressed or something and he’d considered bringing Emile down here on multiple occasions to check him out, but Emile wasn’t supposed to know that the Prince was still alive, that’s why he’d been shoved in the deepest, coldest part of the dungeons.

And Roman hadn’t really done anything wrong either, so this felt even more unfair. 

At least Remy could at least attempt to give him the things he was willing to ask for. 

“He asked if he could have drawing supplies.” Remy reported to Janus one day, leaning against the doorway. “And I mean, I don’t see why we shouldn’t, but like - thought you should give the say so.”

“You can give him art supplies, Remy,” Janus said primly. “You know it’s alright to give him most of the things he asks for.”

“Yeah yeah,” Remy said. “Just like, if things go wrong I don’t want it to be my fault, y’know?”

“I suppose,” Janus hummed. “I’m hoping we’ll be able to release the Prince soon anyway.”

“Oh really?” Remy asked, raising an eyebrow as he grabbed a set of scrolls. “What’s the criteria?”

“Well…” Janus sighed. “In all honesty, we’re not sure. We can’t let him out until we have more of a handle on the staff, and our plans for him. We also need him to talk to Virgil - in or out of his cell.”

Remy hummed. “I think he should see Emmy, too.”

“Hm?”

“Emile - the doctor, I mean. I don’t think he’s hurt physically, but I’m pretty sure he’s like, super depressed - and probably hella traumatised - so like, it can’t hurt? And the hospital wing is probably more comfortable than a prison cell anyway,” Remy said. “But hey, that’s just my suggestion.”

“It’s a good suggestion,” Janus said with a nod. “Go and get him his art supplies - for now - and I’ll discuss this idea with Logan.”

“Yes boss!” Remy said, giving a salute before taking the small pile he had gathered and backing out of the room. 

—

It was horrible to think, but Thomas had barely considered the Prince even once since the revolution.

At first it was because he had been distracted by his own imprisonment. It had been jarring to be thrown into a cell with a collection of other Palace staff. Though he was lucky enough to have quickly gotten out. 

And that was mostly because of him.

An old childhood friend, someone he had fallen in love with once. He had left to be a royal advisor because he thought he would be able to provide for their small village - but he had barely been allowed to leave, barely been paid a thing, it hadn’t worked out like he had hoped and all he’d managed to do was keep sending letters to the boy he had loved. 

Who was here, now.

“Nico?” Thomas had asked when he’d seen him, in a Revolution’s guard uniform patrolling the hallway in front of the cell he shared with some other guy he didn’t even know. Nico had turned, eyes widening when they fell on Thomas.

“Thomas?” Nico had gasped, “Is it really you? It’s been years!”

And two hours later Nico had released Thomas from the cell. They had spent hours together, with Nico catching Thomas up on everything that had happened whilst he had been gone. The carrot farm Nico worked on had grown in size since his older sister had married and combined the land they owned with her husband’s family. Thomas had talked about his job (Very boring, all he really did was handle correspondence for the Prince, settling disputes, hiding things from him that his parents didn’t want him seeing - it was nasty work - and providing advice and the small amounts of comfort he could.)

But aside from that, he had barely thought about the Prince at all.

Until they killed him, that is.

Thomas had been there, of course he had been there. Pretty much everyone had. He hadn’t watched - he couldn’t - Nico had held him afterwards. Prince Roman had been almost like a kid to him - as much as he could’ve been in their situation at least. He had felt a sense of responsibility for him, and Roman had been innocent - he didn’t deserve to die.  

And not only that, but he felt absolutely horrible for Virgil. 

He might’ve been the only one in the palace who had suspected something was going on between them. That’s why he had slipped the book to Roman that one afternoon. He had hoped he would figure out what he was feeling. It seemed like he might have. Watching Roman and Virgil get closer had brought a flutter of joy to his heart, even if it meant Roman coming to him for advice less and less. Roman deserved something good in his life - He hoped that they had at least gotten to tell each other before all of this had happened. 

—

Virgil was miserable. 

There wasn't a lighter way to put it, really, he was miserable, and he hated that he wished Roman was here. If he were here Virgil could imagine him making some kind of stupid joke, a funny quip or honestly just saying something stupid and making Virgil laugh. But Roman wasn’t here, Roman wouldn’t even talk to him. For good reason.

Honestly, Virgil was starting to lose hope. 

Every time he went down to the cells, Roman had turned away, refused to even say a word - or if he did say something it was biting and cold. Remy had mentioned that Roman talked to him, but when he did he just sounded quiet and sad. Virgil hated this so much, he was sure Janus and Logan were tired of hearing him complain about it by this point. 

But it was true. Virgil missed him terribly, he missed being wrapped up in his arms, he missed resting his head on his shoulder or playing with his hair, he even missed helping him to care for his injuries - though he was glad he wouldn’t be being hurt anymore of course. He missed his soft voice, his kindness, how he would hold Virgil’s hand so carefully despite how scarred and calloused Virgil’s hands were. 

He missed the feeling of Roman’s lips, even if he had only gotten to feel them for one night and one day, he missed touching his skin and running his hands through his hair. He missed how flustered it made him when Virgil called him his handsome Prince.

The last time he had gone to see him, Roman hadn’t even moved. 

Virgil didn’t know what to do. Nothing he had said would get Roman to talk to him. Nothing he had tried had worked. How was he supposed to apologise - to make up for what he had done - if Roman wouldn’t listen to him at all. 

“Oh, hello Virgil. Fancy seeing you here, how are you doing today?” Janus’ voice distracted him from where he had curled up on the library sofa. The sofa on which Roman and Virgil had first made friends. He had originally been trying to read, but he just couldn’t focus.

“Oh, hey,” Virgil sighed, sitting up and looking over at him. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Janus said, coming over and sitting down next to him. No shit, Virgil thought. “Thinking about Roman again?”

“As always.” Virgil sighed, putting the book he had attempted to read back on the low table and dropping his hands into his lap.

“I know it’s been hard…”

“It’s just-” Virgil cut him off with a frustrated sigh. “I want to talk to him - I want - I know I have to apologise, make it up to him, but he won’t let me - he won’t even look at me-”

“He’s hurting, darling,” Janus said softly, gently rubbing Virgil’s back. “You are too, I can see it on both of you - he loves you so much that it’s tearing him up to hate you.”

Virgil’s head dropped to his chest. 

“And it’s tearing you up to see him like that,” Janus said. “I have… a plan.”

Looking up again, Virgil’s eyes met Janus’, one blinded from the burns that had marred his side. Janus always had good ideas. “You do?”

“I’m getting him to read your letters,” Janus said. “In hopes that he’ll see that you weren’t betraying him, and then we’re going to have him see Emile - perhaps you could talk to him there?”

“He still wouldn’t listen to me.” Virgil sighed.

“You underestimate how much he loves you,” Janus said softly. “hopefully I’ve started getting him to remember just how much he loves you, but I can’t do all the work, darling. You’ll have to talk to him eventually - hopefully before it’s too late.”

Virgil said nothing. Janus smiled, patted him on the shoulder and stood up to leave. 

Two days later, Remy informed him that Roman had been moved to the medical wing if he wanted to see him - with a wink. 

Three days after that, Virgil went. 

----

<- Previous | Masterpost | Next ->

----

[gravegrime]

Poll Game Lore Results

Alright gang here's the lore for the poll I did yesterday! It's going to be a long one so buckle up lol

I ran the same poll over on twitter too with different results so if you want to know even more lore you can check that out over there too

💕LILIUM💕

Lilium's hyper positivity and caring nature is a direct result of her strange upbringing. As a "child of the kingdom" Lilium was raised under the watchful gaze of the All-Mother. An otherworldly being in her world I call an Abstraction. As well as guided by the hands of the All-Mother's servants, fathers.

A core tenant of the ideology is a strict adherence to simply positivity and an over emphasis on love and care.

Speaking of the All-Mother... She is also responsible for Lilium's lack of any face. Scooped that shit right out of her head when she was born as is tradition for all children in the kingdom.

It doesn't particularily bother Lilium as she's never known a world where she's had a face. To her, the gaping maw in her head is just as good!

There is a level of redundancy when it comes to the concept of friendship within the kingdom. They're all seen as each other's family so having external relationships on top of that is seen as unnecessary.

However, Lilium is particularily close to one individual in her town. Rose from Elsewhere. A kindly older gentleman who took Lilium under his wing when he discovered that she enjoyed writing.

She is appreciative of everything he teaches her, even if she doesn't always understand it right away! The two make a point to visit each other at the end of every work week in a small park to discuss ideas and learn about the lovely world around them.

You did hear that right, Lilium is in fact a writer! on a hobbiest level at least.

Her writings are very rudementary self-insert fables about princesses saving kingdoms and getting helpful advice from old wizards. I think we can cut her a little slack though given she's never really read a novel before. That's just not something they have access to in the kingdom.

Besides, these are very personal stories to her. They help her compartmentalize and understand thoughts and feelings frowned upon by the kingdom. Lilium would have no interest in sharing these stories with others. The very thought would have her "face" flush and her knees weaken for some reason that's hard for her to understand!

Another unfortunate down side of being raised in the kingdom is a deep lack of experience with anything close to lying or deception. To the point that Lilium doesn't even understand them as things anyone can do but only as evil sins commited by individuals with hate in their heart.

This results in her being blatant, almost horrifically, honest. She would tell her killer where to find the knives level of honesty because she simply doesn't understand why anyone would say something untrue.

She would love to figure out why someone might though! That's one thing that seperates Lilium from a lot of the other children of the kingdom, she's very curious.

She sees the world as an infinite source of love and wonder. Absolutely everything has some aspect to it that is lovely and should be nurtured and acknowledged! To find out the lovely parts isn't easy however and requires a keen eye and lots of questions. This driving force of her curiousity leads her to being a very kind, if not a bit frustrating, amatuer slueth looking for the good in the world.

👻CORNY👻

Before taking on the role of Kaspar's apprentice Corny would develop his own methods of dealing with the ghosts and spirits he would encounter.

One being if Corny found a ghost that was capable of communication he have it follow him to an old abandoned residence and stay there until he found out how to help them. Essentially collecting coherent ghosts in one spot to cut down on travel and maybe give them some much needed company.

Ultimately he wanted to help these ghosts but in the meantime maybe they'd at least to find comfort in each other!

Corny is a massive horror fan! He loves himself a good spook be it by show, movie, or game. Going so far as to study some of the stories he feels might be applicable in his own paranormal pursuits. Obviously to varying results lol

Some of his favorites would be akin to Poltergiest, The Shining, Silent Hill, and Fatal Frame!

💀LYNETTE💀

Lynette absolutely hates relying on other people for anything. There is almost nothing more distasteful to her than asking for help. Near the point of rathering to die than even consider calling the ambulance lol

This completely bull-headed approach to aid is a huge flaw of hers and something that's going to be quite harshly punished throughout the story. Lass has a lot of learnin' to do

Exhibit A! Lynette has never summoned a spirit for a contract before. In Grimm Deeds magic is preformed through ritual trades with spirits that bind the witch/wizard and the spirit together in a sense. This exchange grants the witch/wizard power while giving the spirit form. Lynette has never done this!

There is a much more difficult route for a magic user to cast that utilizes the caster's own soul instead of relying on the power of a spirit. This practices is much more difficult and takes A LOT of training to achieve comperable results to normal magic. This is the method Lynette uses instead severly kneecapping her own potential to avoid having to rely on another entity for her own power.

There are also some advantages to using your own soul for magic but I won't detail these here unless you guys have a question about it lol

Most of the time she is completely alone on the Necropolis, outside of her caretaker, but she doesn't count them. Her father, Kaspar, is extremely busy with being... the grimm reaper and everything and is unable to spend much time with her.

This isolation has led to some pretty sever social stunting and having any complex social interaction will often stun her as she tries to navigate it. For this reason Lynette often retreats back into self isolation even more. She hates the loneliness of it but there's a comfort in the familiarity.

If there is a silver lining to her loneliness it's her academic and hobbiest pursuits have florished with nothing else to do on her own. Her magic is an obvious example of this, having a far greater grasp on her abilities than any normal witch/wizard in training would.

Of course having a hyper magical being as a father to teach you a few tricks probably helps too.

But she has other skills as well! Lynette actually has a small passion for music and is able to play a sort of fantasy themed piano/organ as well as a strange looking violin!

She actually writes her own songs as well. They act as a form of journaling her feelings in a more abstract sense, Lynette would die of embarassment if she were to actually log her feelings in a way people would easily be able to understand them, and are often without lyrics.

No lyrics also makes her feel better because she feels she doesn't have a very good singing voice either.

On the academic side of things I don't think I have to mention how much she likes to read. Take a stroll through any artwork with her in it and she probably has her face buried in some form of literature. She loves it so much that her father turned almost TWO full walls into bookshelves for her! It's the one thing she does the most out of anything.

She mostly reads nonfiction as well. Biographies, textbooks, essays you name it she probably has read something similar. Many pertain to magic and the practice of it but a good amount are also about the various worlds in the Cosmos. She respects her father's wishes to not go exploring without him there to keep her safe and therefore lives an explorer's life vicariously through written world.

Unfortunately all this knowledge can't translate to real world experience. All her knowledge of how things work is almost completely theoretical.

She loves her fucking dad so goddamn much. Everything she does is for him. EVERYTHING IS FOR THAT BIG BEAUTIFUL MAN. She just wishes he could be here...

Lynette is very cold and holds herself very strongly but man is she fragile. A huge emphasis on strength and self sufficency acts as a bit of a complex for her to avoid having to deal with the fact that she's scared and that she's hurt.

There are a lot of reasons for this but I'll leave it at that for now >:)

🖤SHADE🖤

Shade has a pretty big family all things considered! A grandmother, two parents, and four other brother's and sisters that he's smack dab in the middle of. He loves them all dearly and makes sure to take breaks from his wanderlust to come back home and visit.

His family are actually quite supportive of his lifestyle, especially given his father's background, and always want to hear the stories of his magical adventures across the Cosmos!

Shade is not a bright boy. You could honestly say he's very much of an idiot, but he's an idiot in what I feel is the most charming way possible.

His head is never empty. Shade's mind is bursting with a million questions and observations. The quality of them is questionable is all! their either an insanely solid observation or the equivalent of a yahoo answers question and there is very little inbetween. He has no idea what a good or bad question is so he just asks them all! Making Shade one of the most interesting people to talk to possible lol

On top of already being very likeable with his laid back and open personality Shade is also insanely charismatic! He is an absolute accidental people pleaser able to make a lemon smile.

Full of worldly charm and experience Shade often wins people over with his adventerous stories, of which he has plenty, and good nature. He's one of those people you'd just want to sit down and listen to, no matter what he's saying.

[bleubcrries]

It had been three months since the attempt on Willow's life, and Oscar had been inching towards this decision like a knife's edge toward his own throat. It was time for him to go back to Rusalka. In the days, weeks, months that followed the incident, Oscar had scurried back to his faith like a beaten dog. Slowly, at first, and then all at once. Before the first drop of blood hit the throne room floor, Oscar's faith was job security, at best, but it has since turned into the hand around his throat, keeping him from falling over the cliff; saving and suffocating him all at once. Being raised in a monastery, Oscar was sure that he and fear were well acquainted foes-- but fear had taken a new form on that wretched day. It had grown fangs, claws, and a million watchful eyes. It had become the kind of nightmare that followed you into your waking hours; exactly the kind of thing that sends you back to your knees before the Saints. And that's exactly what Oscar had done. One night, after a long, long court meeting about security measures to protect the Queen, he all but burst out of the room. He rounded corners, descended stairs, ran across corridors on autopilot, until he was back at the long-neglected alter of his rectory, falling to his knees. His face was slick with sweat and tears as he squeezed his hands together, the sword of his rosary cutting harsh lines into his palm as his free, shaking hand struggled to light the matches for his alter candles. And it was there that he begged and pleaded for the Saint to take mercy on Willow, to refrain from punishing her for his indiscretions. He had allowed himself to become blinded by lust, love, and greed, allowed himself to remove himself from holiness just to excuse his behavior of falling asleep in the chair beside her bed when he read her to sleep, or sneaking a kiss on the back of her hand, falling in love with her. And the Saint responded by almost taking her from him. He needed her, more than he needed to breathe, but he knew that it wasn't just him that would pay for his sins, were she to be taken from them. She had a kingdom, a husband, a son. They could not become casualties of his sins. It was then that he decided he was doing more harm than good, staying there. The court had long become suspicious of their closeness, every move he made to protect her caused another knife to dimple the skin of his back. He was becoming a shadow of himself beneath their scrutinizing gaze. And shadows couldn't protect Willow from another brush with death. And so, there Oscar stood, before the court, his eyes down and his hands behind his back, as he introduced the man who would soon replace him. "Your highness, gentleman," Oscar bowed reverently, schooling his expression into a neutral one. "This is Bishop Phillip Beasant. He has served as the advisor to Lord Chathman for over nine years, and was my apprentice at the monastery since he was a boy of only eleven. He has experience in political advisement, and worked closely with Lord Chathman in the security measures that protected the Lord's family from attempted assassinations. I trust entirely in his abilities to serve the royal court with the holiness of the Saint." He paused, as he and the young Bishop made the sign of the sword on their chest, as a proper Bishop is meant to do when mentioning the Saint in formal settings such as this. Oscar has yet to make eye contact with Willow, knowing that one look at her sharp, piercing gaze would turn his resolve to jelly and bring an untimely warmth to his eyes. However, he finally lifts his head to look around at the other members of the court, who are all frozen in suspicious confusion, their spines stiff as they look between Oscar and the unacquainted young Bishop beside him. "Bishop Beasant... well, he will be taking my place, as the Noble Minister of this great kingdom. I will be returning to my post in Rusalka, where I can help them prepare their kingdom for the impending famine of this new era of war."

@inexorcble I'M HAVING EMOTIONS

[t0t4lly-n0t-z4hw4]

A hero is having a crush on me? Nah man, a VILLAIN is having a crush on me.

Paddle Pop Reader X Shadow Master Oneshot Fluff.

This fic is requested by @ry-ichi1 through a Paddle Pop Fans Whatsapp group. And also requested by @artist-anon08 VIA Tumblr. This is kinda rushed, & i had NO ideas at all- So i tried my best to think of an idea, & i came up with the idea of Shadow Master having a crush on Female!Reader- Listen, i ran out of ideas ok!? And there's 2 friggin' ppl requesting the same thing- /NM Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy this fic! :3 <3

Summary : YOU were recruited to be Shadow Master's apprentice. The 2nd day, Shadow Master invited you to meet up with him. He prepared a strawberry shortcake for you, and a cup of tea for himself. After a few days being Shadow Master's apprentice, you noticed something a bit wrong here. Shadow Master treats other servants & apprentices a little bit harshly, but with you? He acts so sweet to you! He's like a gentleman with you! But one day, Shadow Master gave you a BEAUTIFUL black & purple dress, and a letter saying for you to go to a certain place. Once you got there...

Character(s) : Shadow Master, Female!Apprentice!Y/N.

Ship : Shadow Master X Female!Apprentice!Y/N (SFW ROMANCE)

TW : A bit of romance(?), dating(?), incorrect/wrong spelling, typos, short fic ;-;

It was your 2nd day to be Shadow Master's apprentice. You & Shadow Master were sitting in 2 seperate chairs facing eachother, with a table between you 2, & a flower pot with 3 black roses in the pot. You were eating a piece of strawberry shortcake, meanwhile Shadow Master were sipping on a cup of tea. Shadow Master often invites you to do something like this(Shadow Master did NOT want to call this a 'date').

"Master, do you anything i need to do for you today?" You asked, starting a conversation.

"Hm?" Shadow Master replied, still sipping on his cup of tea. "Well, not for now" Shadow Master said, "But, i do have something planned for later" Shadow Master continued.

"Alright master" You replied. "By the way, thank you for the cake, master" You said.

"You're welcome, Y/N" Shadow Master replied.

You and Shadow Master chatted for a little before you finish your food.

After you finished the food, "It was really lovely to hang out with you, Y/N" Shadow Master said, politely.

"It was a a delight to meet you too, master" You replied.

Shadow Master nodded, "Ah... Y/N, do you mind if we keep on doing this?" Shadow Master aksed, stuttering a bit.

Your eyes widened a bit. Do this again? What? "Ah... Sure, master. Anything for you" You said.

"Thank you, Y/N. I'll see you again later" Shadow Master walked off.

"Bye, master" You waved at him.

Do this again? Why would he want to do this again?

The next day...

You walked in a hall, and saw saw Shadow Master with another aporentice of his, yelling at him for doing a bad job.

You saw him doing it ALOT of times to ALOT of his apprentices, servants & others.

You saw him do this for milliseconds, seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, MONTHS, AND YEARS ALREADY!!

But then it hit you.

'Wait, if Shadow Master treated his servants harshly..." You thought, 'But then...Why did he didn't treat me harshly instead of inviting to eat some cake?' You continued.

It's a bit weird that Shadow Master often ask you to do that. Either way; You didn't complain about it anyways-

Then, "Y/N, do you have some time?" Shadow Master asked.

"Oh! Ah... Yes, i have some spare time" You replied, a bit shocked that Shadow Master was in your sight outta no where-

"Good. What would you like to eat tonight?" Shadow Master asked gently.

"Ah... Can i have a chocolate lava cake, please?" You answered with another question.

"Alright. And what drink would like to have?" Shadow Master asked again.

"A jasmine tea, please" You replied again.

Shadow Master nodded, then said "Thank you, Y/N. I'll meet you at the Shadow Sakura Garden".

"See you later, Y/N" Shadow Master waved, turning around then walked to his throne room.

"I'll see you later too, master!" You waved back at him.

Hmm... Another 'Hang-out'. This is really strange. And to think about it, it's really strange that YOU were the only one treated this way by Shadow Master. And one more thing you realized; You're the only FEMALE apprentice that Shadow Master himself considered special apprentice.

You decided that you've had enough of thinking about it for YEARS already. So you just got your room, and read a book instead.

You've read for hours untill evening. But later...

*knock, knock, knock

"Ah? C- come in!" You said, as you heard the knocking sounds coming from the door of your room.

"Y/N, Shadow Master sent you this" One of Shadow Master's servants came into your room, with a black box tied with a purple robbin, and a letter.

You stood up, walked towards him, and retrieved the box & letter. "Thank you" You said as you retreived them.

"You're welcome" The servant said, leaving your room, & closing the door behind him.

You sat down to your bed, put the box ontop of your bed, then you grabbed the letter.

It look rather cute. Kinda looked like a love letter. It has a little pink flower along with a pink heart-shaped wax stamp.

You admired the appearance of the letter from the back, to the front. It...looks amazing. Then you opened the letter.

Dear Y/N,

I would like to meet you at the Shadow Sakura Garden tonight. We will attend our dinner there.

However, like usual; NOONE but US will be the only one there. I told the others that they will attend their dinner in my lair, and i told them that we will be away for a bit.

And...there's also something i need to talk about with only you.

I hope we could meet up at the Shadow Sakura Garden, for our dinner tonight.

Sincerely, ~Shadow Master.

Ps. I've sent a gift for you. I hope you could wear that during our dinner for tonight. And after our dinner, i have something to talk about & something else for you. All of those gifts are all yours to have.

You got curious & confused as you read the 3rd paragraph. 'What is he going to talk about?' You asked in curiosity & confusion.

You closed the letter, putting it down on your desk, and turned to grab the box.

You untied the purple ribbon, then opened the black box.

You were shocked of what's in it! It was a gorgeous black & purple dress! It was beautiful!

After admiring it's appearance, you wore the dress. You spun around in the dress infront of a large standing mirror.

After all of that admirance, you got to the location Shadow Master told you to go, The Shadow Sakura Garden.

You got out of your room, close the door behind you, got out of the lair, close the lair's gates, then walked off to the garden.

It was a beautiful night. With the full moon up in the sky, soo many stars, clear skies, it's beautiful!

As you walked trough the garden's gates, you were in awe of Shadow Master's appearance!

He's in a black suit, a purple bow tie around his neck, a handkerchief purple in his pocket, and white gloves.

Shadow Master fixed his bow tie while looking away, seeming to...BLUSH A BIT!?

"Shall we...start our dinner, my lady?" Shadow Master asked, reaching his hand out to tak your hand.

'MY LADY!? DID HE-' You thought in disbelief. Did he called you his lady!? Wow. Just WOW.

But instead of acting weird, you took his hand and said "Sure, master" as calmly as you possibly could be.

Both of you sat down, and eat your dinners.

"What are you going talk about, master?" You asked.

"Hm, we-" Shadow Master's words were cut off with the sound of the bushes shaking.

You got scared of the shaking, Shadow Master stood up with a serious face. But once the bush stopped shaking.

A little white bunny came out of the bushes!

"Aww! A bunny!" You smiled, as you walked towards the bunny then picked it up.

"Do you like bunnies, Y/N?" Shadow Master asked, looking at the bunny.

"Yess!" You replied in happiness.

Shadow Master looked at you, then said "You could keep the bunny if you want".

"But, master, i don't have the cage for the bunny" You said, "And i don't have some bunny foods & supplies too" You continued.

Shadow Master smiled, then said "I could provide bunny supplies & foods for you".

You lightly gasped, then said "Y- you don't have too, master. I coul-" Your wird were cut off with Shadow Master saying "I insist, dear. After all, i would do anything just for you".

With that, Shadow Master worked his magic by creating a bunny cage, picked up the bunny then putting it into the cage. He also 'created' an actual carrot, gave it to the bunny, then closing the cage.

Shadow Master turned to you then said "Here you go, Y/N. A bunny just for you".

You smiled, then said "Thank you so much, master".

"You're welcome, Y/N" Shadow Master said, "Now, let's sit down and talk for a bit".

You nodded, then sat down with him.

You continued ro eat with him.

"So Y/N, is there any other animals you like besides bunnies?" Shadow Master asked.

"Well, i like cats, eagles, sharks, lions, an chameleons!" You replied. "Though, i don't think keeping eagles, sharks, & lions is a good idea"

"What about you, master? What is your favorite animal?" You asked.

"Hmm... To be honest, i don't realky think i have a favorite animal. But, i am a bit interested in lizards" Shadow Master answered.

"Well, what animal is it? Crocodiles? Alligators? Chameleons? Igua-"

"-Komodo dragons to be specific"

You blinked for a few times. Komodo dragons? That was...an unexpected answer.

"I know it's a bit weird" Shadow Master looked down.

"Don't worry, master! To be honest aswell, i'm also a bit interested in komodo dragons" You said.

"Actually, there's also another i'd like to tell you" Shadow Master said.

"What is it, master?" You said.

"I have a komodo dragon as a pet" Shadow Master blurted out quickly.

You blinked for a few times, then asked "Is... Is that what you wanted to tell me? Like you wrote in the letter?".

"No. This is just something random i want you to know" Shadow Master said.

"But master, komodo dragons are dangerous-" You said, a bit worried.

"Don't worry, Y/N. It's a small komodo dragon" Shadow Master said, calmly.

"Alright then" You said.

Shadow Master looked over his plate, then looked over his cup. Then he drinked the last bits of tea in his cup, then asked "Have you finished your food and drink, Y/N?"

"Yes, i have finished them" You said, wiping your mouth with a peice of tissue. (Where da heck did u even get a tissue fro-)

"Good, now can you come with me?" Shadow Master asked, stood up, and reaching his hand out to take your hand.

You smiled, stood up, took his hand then followed him.

He led you to a a beautiful flowering gazebo.

"Y/N, there's something i need to tell you" Shadow Master said, shyly.

You tilted your head, and raised an eyebrow in confusion. You gasped as Shadow Master handed you a black & purple rose bouquet, then said "I have been keeping this a secret eversince you became my apprentice for the first time. I fell inlove with you, at first sight. I... Have a crush on you, Y/N". Now, Shadow Master's blush became more and more visible.

You blushed aswell. Then you retrieved the bouquet.

'This... This is really unexpected' You thought.

Then, Shadow Master took out a purple diamond ring, handing to to Y/N then asked "Will... You be my girlfriend, Y/N?".

This. Is. Unexpected. You couldn't believe it! A villain proposing to YOU!? You're just his apprentice! Why wou-

"Yes, i will!" You answered, hugging him.

Though, you had to admit it. Shadow Master was kindof a husband material-

Shadow Master took your hand, then put the ring on your finger.

The diamond of the ring is heart-shaped, on both sides of the diamond was a white wings-shaped crystals. The ring were so shiny. Even during the nighttime! It was really beautiful.

"Thank you, master" You said.

"No, no, no. I'm the one who's suppose to be thanking you, love. Thank you, Y/N" Shadow Master said.

You smiled at him. How an evil villain could possibly be so lovely, and such a gentleman. AND HOW COULD YOU DATE AN EVIL VILLAIN!?

"Now, care to dance with me, my lady?" Shadow Master asked, reaching his hand out.

You took Shadow Master's hand, then said "I'd love to, dear".

He kissed your hand, then danced with you.

You spun around each other, and startes waltzing. You loved this moment. This is the moment you two would ALWAYS gonna treasure.

You really enjoyed this moment.

Shadow Master could finally be with the one he loved. He'd never thought he'd never experienced love. But eversince Y/N came, that though of his changed forever.

You two hoped that your relationship will never end. Even if you two got into arguments.

But at the end of the day, they are there for eachother. No matter what.

~Fin

Bonus : You & Shadow Master after that moment :

You & Shadow Master hold hands together, walking back to the lair after having such a delightful moment.

"I had so much fun with you, Master. Thank you" You smiled.

"I had fun too, Y/N. Thank you" Shadow Master replied.

"Oh, and by the way; Tomorrow i will introduce you to my komodo dragon pet" Shadow Master said.

"Alright, master." You said.

You continued to walk a bit. But then...

"Wait!" You said, suddenly stop walking. "I feel like... I forgot about something..." You continued, thinking.

"What is it, Y/N?" Shadow Master asked, stopped walking as soon as you stopped walking too.

You thinked hard, but it hit you.

"Wait..."

"MY PET BUNNYY!!!" You screamed as you turned around, and ran back to where you had the date with Shadow Master.

"Wait, your BUNNY!?" Shadow Master said, now realizing as soon as you screamed, "WAIT FOR ME!!" Shadow Master screamed aswell, catching after you.

After you grabbed the cage with your new pet bunny, you walk back to Shadow Master, then continued walking back to the lair.

Tomorrow...

"I want you to meet Scales! My komodo dragon pet" Shadow Master inteoduced you to his komodo dragon pet.

You looked at that lizard as if it k1lled your boyfriend. (No, it didn't happen!)

"... Master..." You said. "I... Thought you said that you had a small komodo dragon..." You continued.

"It is a small komodo dragon. What are you talking about?" Shadow Master asked, looking confused.

"Are you aware that this is the biggest komodo dragon species?" You said, informing your boyfriend.

"Wait, really!?" Shadow Master asked, looking a bit shocked. "I just got this guy a few days before i proposed to you. And the one who sold this komodo to me said that this is the smallest komodo he had. He also had alot of komodos that are alot more bigger than the one i currently had right now" Shadow Master told you.

"THE SELLER HAD WHAT!?"

~Fin

Actual Fin this time-

Phew! What a fic! Hope y'all enjoy it! Cya later! <33

AZ Out.

[tehuti88-art]

8/16/24: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's characters from my anthro WWII storyline are Frieda Orchudesch, her father Herr Orchudesch (no first name given), and Hans von Adel. The first two unwittingly help inspire Josef Diamant to start working for the resistance; while Hans is unrelated to them, he's Ratdog's/Adel von NN's grandson (son of his daughter Tatiana), who's named after his deceased son Hans von NN. There'll be more about them later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding their design, the Orchudesches are German spaniels (I'm iffy on the father's hairstyle), while Hans is meant to resemble both his grandfather and his namesake quite a bit.

TUMBLR EDIT: Placeholder text due to Tumblr's backdating changes. Please check back later for more info.

Following text will be modified for the next entries.

Frieda...*checks*...Orchudesch...dang that's going to take me some time...is a character concept who's been around a bit, yet nameless until just about now, and her story has shifted multiple times. It may shift yet again. But here's how it currently goes.

For some related story, check out JUTTA BENTZ'S ENTRY. This outlines Diamant's career as a jeweler and a surprise document forger, from the POV of neighboring shopkeepers who witness when his shop is raided and he's taken away. What led an esteemed jeweler to risk his own life and safety forging IDs for fleeing Jews, though...? Especially seeing as he never uses one to escape, himself.

Diamant's shop bell jingles one day and he calls out, "Coming!" and exits the back area where he's moving some boxes. In the shop he finds an older gentleman, slicked-back hair, nice suit, obviously well off, and an equally smart-dressed young woman with unusual red ringlets and soft green eyes. "Guten Tag," Diamant greets them, introduces himself, and asks how he might help them. The man says his daughter is looking for a piece of jewelry for her birthday. The young woman pipes up to say she's seeking a pendant, preferably a locket ("Money is no issue!" the man says cheerfully), and Diamant brings out a tray with a selection of his better works. The red-haired woman coos at one of the lockets--"That one's near perfect!"--but "I was kind of hoping I could find a particular design...do you have a pencil, or pen?" and when Diamant offers her such she makes a small sketch of ivy leaves. Diamant says he can do custom orders, if she's specific about everything she wants and is willing to have to wait and return when it's done. The young woman elaborates a bit on her sketch--she'd also like a jewel set in the locket front--and the drawing she makes is detailed enough that Diamant's pretty sure he can give her what she wants. They nail down the final details--including an estimate of the price (Diamant's work is good enough that he's not cheap, especially for custom designs, yet again the woman's father beams at her as he says, "Nothing is too much for mein Liebchen!")--and Diamant asks them to return in a week, it should be done by then. The man gives Diamant his card--his name is Orchudesch, his daughter is named Frieda--and the two go on their way.

Diamant works alone, he has no apprentice or even a secretary to keep records straight or a shopgirl to greet customers; he handles absolutely every aspect of the business himself. It's a lonely existence but he's used to it, and he prefers having his own routines, doing his own thing, unencumbered by others insisting what he should do. He often stays late after hours, keeping his client records in order or putting the fine touches on his latest work. The tinier and more complicated the piece, the more he's up for the challenge; he spends many hours deep into the night, losing track of time, hunched over some stone or piece of metal, jeweler's loupe at his eye, and has to make himself set the project aside just so he can stretch his aching back and go get some sleep. He has no time or motivation for friends or relationships; the gemstones are his existence, it's even in his name, like he was simply fated for this life. So he thinks little of the people behind this latest order--it's the project itself that he anticipates making the best he possibly can, he charges what he does because he pours everything he has into each work, and no one ever complains that he gouges them--and instead focuses on browsing through his collection of raw and tumbled stones, seeking the best one to fit Fräulein Frieda's specifications. He selects a tiny rough emerald and sets to work shaping it, careful to avoid fracturing the delicate stone into brittle pieces; he again heads to bed late and aching and vowing never to do so again although he knows he will.

He repeats the process the following nights, only this time selecting and shaping the metal, putting in the design, using enamel to color all the tiny ivy leaves but one, which receives the emerald. It's quite a chore insetting the teeny little gem, but he does it, secures it in place, smooths out the smudges, polishes it all to a shine, selects a chain. The Orchudesches return at the end of the week and wait as he sets down and unfolds the soft little cloth he wraps up his projects in and presents the locket to them. Diamant never looks down at his own work when showing it off, he looks at his customers' reactions to see what they think. Frieda's eyes light up--green like the enamel and the emerald--and she picks the pendant up, cradling it gently in her palm--he notices that, too. "It's almost too beautiful to even wear," she says, yet, "Papa, would you--?" and Herr Orchudesch secures the locket around her neck so it lies against her chest. She gives him a big hug--"I believe mein Liebchen is satisfied with the product!" Herr Orchudesch exclaims--and he gives Diamant his payment. "Danke, danke schön," Frieda says, holding out her hand, which Diamant grasps--he intends to clasp it briefly and then let go, not desiring to seem forward or inappropriate--but she places her other hand over his and squeezes hard before letting go. The two are still thanking him profusely as they depart. Diamant waves, but he's vaguely distracted trying to figure out why his ears started burning when Frieda clutched his hand. It can't be a crush. They're adults not children, he only just met her, and he doesn't get crushes, that's just silly. Still...in the following days as he's working on other projects, he finds that his thoughts keep returning to her. Not only was she pretty, and friendly, and appreciated his work...but she seemed to have a decent eye for design, herself.

I've never gotten into developing Diamant's backstory, his life before his job as a jeweler in the story's unnamed city. Before his imprisonment in Ernst Dannecker's labor camp, he lives a pretty decent life as an upper-middle class Jew: not quite upper class himself, he's still technically a craftsman and a merchant, making a living with his hands, yet definitely not poor--he can afford to charge fair prices based on his skill level without customers feeling cheated. Initially my assumption was he came from a family of jewelers--literally, it's in his family name, and was the reason I originally chose the surname Diamant--yet the fact that he doesn't appear to come from a wealthy background makes this seem a bit more complicated. Based on the name, I'll still assume Diamant's family has long traditionally dealt in lapidary, and Diamant just continues the tradition, which is presumably passed down from parent to child. (Diamant has no children, thus no apprentice.) But somehow, between Diamant and the Diamant family's heyday, some sort of interruption took place, to cast the family back down near poverty, so that it looks as if Diamant had to work hard to pull himself up from it...what was it? Whatever it was, it possibly led to the near-extinction of the family line, as, just like with so many characters in my story, Diamant has no close relations left. We never see his mother, father, siblings. Whatever hit the Diamant family, it hit them hard, and only Diamant remained to pull the name back up.

I toyed with the idea of the family residing in a ghetto--one of the older ones--but based on dates, this likely would have been abolished by Diamant's parents' time, at least. (Diamant must be born around or very shortly before the turn of the century, circa 1900.) It's possible the Diamants fell on hard times and ended up living in some sort of Jewish quarter instead (likely another city, as I don't think my fictional city has one), and from there struggled to ply their trade, possibly needing to resort to other, less-specialized work--perhaps selling secondhand, cheaply made jewelry--to make ends meet; I read about how Jews in the older ghettos often became pawnbrokers. Given how skilled and proud of their skills the Diamants were, I imagine such a downfall would chafe. But work is work and food must be put on the table. Even if they could no longer afford to purchase, design, and sell their own high-quality jewelry to their equally poor communities, they persisted in passing on the craft, for whenever times got better. For whatever reason--perhaps his age, perhaps his particular innate skills--this responsibility fell to Josef, and he became his father's apprentice, then journeyman, practicing with cheap stones and metals first, then repairing or repurposing midgrade jewelry obtained elsewhere, and at last designing and creating his own piece from scratch. It sells for a fine price, puts food on the table for a little while.

At a relatively young age, Diamant becomes a master jeweler who doesn't possess the goods needed to take it up as a profession; not a moment too soon as it turns out, as he then loses his remaining family, though I'm unsure how. The flu again? The Great War? Diamant doesn't go fight, though I can imagine male siblings of his doing so. His father is too old to go. It's likely a mix of factors occurring all around the same period that snuffs out the family, but whatever it is, it actually works in Diamant's favor, in that it breaks his ties to the old community and frees him to go ply his new trade elsewhere (he decides on the unnamed city of the story, loosely analogous to Berlin), with the family savings solely at his disposal (he invests in new tools and a decent selection of stones and metals, also taking along what his father left to him, and sets up shop in the decent middle-class area also occupied (later on) by the Bentzes and other small, specialized businesspeople). He's alone and grieving, yes. But he's also a businessman, and he's practical. Food must be put on the table. He learns early on how to shove down his emotions, put on a welcoming smile, sell himself as a skilled craftsman just as much as he sells his work. He also learns to keep everyone at a distance, because as the loss of his family proved, the closer you are to someone, the more it hurts when they're gone. Diamant has a brief fling here and there to scratch the itch, but he takes no wife, fathers no children, has no apprentice. He knows the family reputation, and name, will die with him. It's unfortunate, but that's just how it is. He needs to look out for himself first off.

Now, Frieda Orchudesch seems to have tossed a wrench into those plans.

Diamant shakes himself out of the odd mood he's in--convincing himself he's simply finished dealing with a particularly enthusiastic client--and resumes work as usual. A month or so later, however, the shop bell rings, and there she is again, bright red ringlets and big bright smile. Diamant almost doesn't even notice her father, she lights up the shop so much. He asks if there's a problem with the locket, has it broken?--does it need fixing? No, not at all--Herr Orchudesch explains that Frieda is so enamored of the locket that now she'd like a matching set--a ring, and earrings, to go along with it. Just as before, money is no issue, whatever his Liebchen wants, she'll get. Diamant says all he needs is designs and he'll get to work. Frieda beams from ear to ear and hands him some papers. She's already made the concept sketches. They're just as excellent as the original.

Lather, rinse, repeat. Diamant makes the earrings first, then focuses on the ring. Although he's expanded his skill set a bit to repairing and occasionally even making small clockworks--a skill he can fall back on if jewelry falls out of demand--rings are his true specialty, and he always takes extra care in creating them. He hums an old Yiddish folk song as he works, a rather superstitious habit he picked up from his father, who told him that rings have a special sort of power to them. Rings are oaths, not to be made or taken lightly, so he's never frivolous or hasty in creating them. He's always used his own designs for them before, as it seemed most suitable, other people often don't take such things as seriously as they should and he doesn't know others' intentions as well as he knows his own. This, though...this is different. He can tell Frieda's designs have some personal meaning to her, that she didn't draw them just to be pretty--the earring and ring designs match the locket so well. These are ideas she's obviously had in her head a long time. And she's just skilled enough to be able to put her ideas to paper so Diamant can interpret them adequately. He told the Orchudesches to give him a couple of weeks this time. When they arrive and he presents Frieda with her new jewelry, she beams just as brightly as before. She takes off her old earrings and puts on the new, then holds out her hand, fingers extended, and asks Diamant to place on the ring.

Diamant blinks in surprise, then feels the blood rush to his ears. Peers uneasily at Herr Orchudesch, but he's gazing at the glass displays, perhaps contemplating a purchase of his own. "Herr Diamant...?" Frieda prompts, and his eyes shift back to her; he tries to detect any guile in her face, yet can't, she just smiles and holds up her hand. He takes a breath and tells himself to stop being silly--it's her right hand, not the left, she just wants to admire her new ring, stop giving an unthinking yet innocent gesture any meaning--and takes the ring, sliding it carefully on her finger. She lifts her hand palm out and turns it this way and that--"Papa, look, it's perfect"--and Herr Orchudesch praises Diamant's work. Again, he's well paid, though he hardly thinks about the money as the two say their farewells and depart. This time he can't shake the feeling the encounter left with him. When he placed the ring on Frieda's finger, it felt like he was making an oath, and he can't tell whether she was in on it too, or not. He doesn't like not knowing. But he can't think of any other reason why she would request him to do that.

The third time she visits, she's alone, no Herr Orchudesch in sight. Diamant is reluctant to talk with her, though she insists her father knows where she is. "I've looked into you," she says, making him raise his eyebrows. She explains that she's learned he's not from there--"You're from Frankfurt"--and she had her father take her there for a visit, where she in fact spent her time finding out what she could about Diamant's family, which was once so well known there, yet then faded into obscurity. "I have something to show you," she says, and pulls a small package from her satchel, carefully unwrapping it and holding it out to him. It's a ring, yet not her ring; Diamant takes in a breath on seeing it and actually flinches back a little out of sheer surprise. "The dealer I bought it from said it was designed by a 'J. Diamant,'" Frieda says; "I wasn't sure if that was you or simply a relative of yours, but seeing the look on your face now..." She picks the ring up and holds it out; Diamant's eyes blur a little as he takes it and looks it over. "Can you tell me about it?" she asks, and he obliges.

"This was my final project as a journeyman," he murmurs, gently turning the ring in his fingers, "my first original design before I set out on my own. A commission...though it was hard to let it go. How did you find it? You said a dealer?" Frieda confirms, she found the ring in a secondhand shop, thought it looked like one of his designs, and asked about its provenance while making an offer. Diamant sadly surmises that the original owner must too have fallen on hard times and needed to put food on the table; it's a shame, but it happens. Something else Frieda said has caught his attention, though: "You thought it looked like my design--you're that familiar with my work?" he asks, confused. Frieda smiles and says, "I told you I've been looking into you."

It's an odd start, but this is how Diamant and Frieda Orchudesch meet and get to know one another. She puts his concerns at ease by assuring him that her father knows she's visiting him, she tells him everything, and he's fine with them being alone together, he trusts them both not to do anything inappropriate. Diamant isn't terribly conservative or old fashioned--he's Orthodox, and follows basic customs, yet doesn't attend synagogue often, and doesn't think much about religious matters--yet he really doesn't want any sort of unsavory accusation hanging over his head. All the women he's been involved with were unattached and not particularly observant themselves and weren't interested in relationships; no muss, no fuss. Frieda is obviously a respectable young woman from a respected--and wealthy--family: well bred, upper class, not a tradesman working family like his own. He knows he has to tread carefully around such people, and he knows that Herr Orchudesch likely intends for her to marry a nice respectable upper-class man, her equal or better. It doesn't matter what her actual reasons for visiting him may be; there's only one legitimate reason for a man and woman to be alone with each other, and he doesn't want anyone to get the wrong idea.

Frieda, for her part, doesn't do anything especially inappropriate at first; she likes simply to talk, and listen. She's curious about his family, his work, his plans for his life. Diamant isn't used to conversations but shoves down his confused feelings, puts on his best face, does the best he can. And Frieda sees right through him. She might come across as naive and spoiled and obsessed with superficial pretty things at a first glance, but she's actually quite sharp, and sees lots of fine details that others easily miss. It's the reason she learned to recognize Diamant's work so quickly, and how she can put her own designs on paper so effectively. She brings up the matter of her ring, and how she noticed the look he got while placing it on her finger; "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Herr Diamant," she apologizes, yet she doesn't offer any concrete explanation for her request, and Diamant has the distinct impression that all of this is intentional: Frieda knew exactly what she was doing when she asked him to place the ring. He hadn't wanted to admit it even to himself, yet he's attracted to her, and she's attracted to him as well.

Now that this particular intention is obvious, their meetings take on a slightly different tone. They still use polite titles, yet now refer to each other by their first names, like acquaintances. They still do nothing inappropriate, but something unspoken crackles in the air between them, and they often have to look away from each other, faces burning. Diamant tells Frieda about his family, their fall from fortune, his singlehanded effort to grasp some of that fortune back; Frieda tells him about what had once been her own dream, to be a professional violinist; he asks why this is no longer her dream, and she extends and flexes her right hand, smiling wistfully as she mentions an injury that made the dream no longer feasible. "I'm sorry," Diamant murmurs, knowing all too well how much one's livelihood can depend on their hands; Frieda replies that it could always be worse. Upon learning that she still has her old violin, he asks her to play it for him; she brings it with her on her next visit and obliges. Diamant, in all sincerity, says she sounds like a professional violinist to him; Frieda smiles ear to ear, saying, "This is why you're a jeweler and not a musician, Herr Josef, else you'd hear the difference. Still, I'll gladly accept the compliment."

Herr Orchudesch decides to commission a piece for himself; he has an old pocketwatch and, on learning that Diamant can refurbish it, requests him to do so. Frieda provides the sketch; "I have no eye for such things, I'm afraid," Herr Orchudesch says. As Diamant is examining the watch, Herr Orchudesch is silent a few moments, before venturing, "My daughter seems to enjoy the time she spends with you, I swear she's gone more often than she's at home." Feeling a spark of alarm, Diamant tries to keep a calm voice as he assures him that neither of them has tried anything improper. "I know, she tells me everything," Herr Orchudesch says, and it becomes clear he's not making any accusations; rather, he mentions how dispirited Frieda had been since being told she wouldn't ever take the stage, and nothing had managed to lift her spirits, until now: "She talks about you constantly. Like she once used to talk about the violin, and believe me, did she talk. Go figure!--I take her to get a pretty piece of jewelry to cheer her up, yet it's the jeweler she's interested in." Diamant offers to cut off communication with Frieda, still thinking Herr Orchudesch is hinting at him to back off, yet "Why would I want you to do that--?" he exclaims, "This is the happiest I've seen her in ages. There's just one thing I need to know, Herr Diamant," and he takes on a serious tone when he asks, "Are you interested in my daughter...?"

Diamant doesn't answer at first, though he's sure his emotions show on his face. "I ask," Herr Orchudesch continues, "because Frieda tells me everything...and she's told me she's interested in you. I don't want her heart broken again. Is the feeling mutual...?" This time Diamant pauses only slightly before saying, "It is." Herr Orchudesch says, "And so, do you have intentions for my daughter...?" To which Diamant replies, "Not without your blessing." Herr Orchudesch is silent a moment, appraising him, before smiling slightly and turning. "I look forward to seeing what you can do for my watch." Diamant speaks up before he can leave: "Herr Orchudesch...I'm not sure how much you know, but Fräulein Frieda looked my family up when you traveled to Frankfurt, to see what she might find out." Herr Orchudesch confirms this, she told him. "Then she must've told you that my family was nothing like yours," Diamant continues. "We did well for ourselves for a while, but we weren't like you, we made a living with our hands, manual work." He isn't sure how to put it without being offensive. Herr Orchudesch seems to understand his meaning, however--and doesn't seem to care. Hard honest work is hard honest work, whether it's lofty or down to earth; "All a man has, after all," he says, "is his word, and his hard work. Mein Liebchen wants and deserves the best. I trust her to make good decisions. Gute Nacht, Herr Diamant."

It appears Diamant has Herr Orchudesch's blessing to court his daughter. He tentatively broaches the subject when he meets her and she immediately says oh yes, they've already discussed it, and Diamant looks skyward, murmuring, "Well of course you have, you tell each other everything." "He did say you never gave him a direct answer about your intentions," she adds. Diamant is quiet for a moment, weighing his options, before deciding; he takes Frieda's right hand, removes the ring he made, and places it on her left ring finger instead. Frieda holds up her hand, turning it this way and that, and a small smile comes to her face; "It's perfect," she says.

Diamant had never really wanted marriage, a family, children; although lonely at times, he was used to it, and just assumed that was the path he was meant to follow. His craft was his life. Suddenly that's all turned upside-down, and he has mixed feelings; he doesn't regret his decision, but he does worry about losing his independence, not having enough time to focus anymore on the thing that matters most to him. Frieda quickly puts his fears to rest: They don't have to start a family immediately, there's plenty of time later, and she would never think of getting between him and his work; if anything, she'd like to run some design ideas by him, see what he thinks. He hadn't expected that she might take a role in the work herself--he's used to doing his own thing--yet her designs really are good, and she gives excellent advice. He starts warming to the idea of no longer being alone, of being one half of a whole. Losing a little bit of his independence doesn't seem so bad.

He and Frieda stroll through a secluded park late one evening, sit on a bench in the growing gloom to look out over the river, and nature takes its course. Yet again he expects wrath from Herr Orchudesch--Frieda tells him everything!--yet her father never says a word. Frieda reasons that they're already just about married, all that's needed is the ceremony to make it official, but their souls are already connected; there's nothing so wrong in it. His unease fades--by now he feels it's a given that soon, they'll be living together--and they steal away to be alone with each other when they can.

Germany...1930s. I really don't need to explain the atmosphere, do I...? Diamant notices when the swastika banners go up, when the laws start being passed, when his fellow Jewish shopkeepers start closing their shops and moving away. He hears about the ghetto which the poorer Jews are forced into at the other end of the city, and this strikes some bad memories for him, tales passed down through his family about similar times. He chafes, but doesn't argue, when he's told he must wear a yellow star whenever he's out in public. He hears of something called Arbeitslager--a work camp--being constructed at the city's edge, and all sorts of alarms go off inside him. Still--business is fine, he shoves down his worry, puts on a good face. Even for the sullen, swastika-clad youths who visit his shop to glance around and mutter a few slurs before going on their way. Diamant figures he'll discuss this matter with the Orchudesches and see what they should do. Maybe it would be most prudent to leave. Even though it'll sting badly to abandon the shop he set up from scratch. He started over once, he should be able to again. He's always been resilient.

He finishes up some projects, closes shop early one day, and sets out for Herr Orchudesch's place. He and Frieda live in a small but lavishly appointed house in a quiet, well-off neighborhood, a peaceful street lined with shade trees. The neighborhood has been getting quieter lately, what with the Jewish residents leaving. Diamant ascends the steps up to the door and reaches for the handle, only to abruptly pull his hand back--the door is cracked open already, and he can see it was knocked open by force. Alarm lighting up in him, he pushes it open and steps inside anyway. "Herr Orchudesch--?" he calls, "Frieda?" No one answers, but when he pauses, he hears what sounds like muted sobbing; he anxiously heads toward the sound.

In the parlor he finds a man huddled in the middle of the floor, head in hands, papers scattered in front of him, crying piteously. Diamant recognizes the Orchudesches's manservant and says, "Herr Heinrich--?" Herr Heinrich's head pops up with a gasp--"Herr Diamant!" he cries, and clambers to his feet, clasping his hands together. "I don't know who else I can talk to! I don't know what to do!" When Diamant asks him what happened, he says the Orchudesches are gone--he returned from an errand to find the door knocked in, and a neighbor claims she saw the police taking them away. "Police--? Why? To where--?" Herr Heinrich mentions them receiving a notice saying Herr Orchudesch had to divest himself of his business soon or face arrest--"The Jews, they aren't letting them work anymore, they keep telling them to work is illegal but what can they do?" As for where they were taken, he has no idea, but maybe the neighbor knows. "If only I'd come back just a little earlier, maybe I could've stopped this," he exclaims, and starts crying anew. Diamant tries telling him he couldn't have done anything, yet Herr Heinrich is insistent: "They sent me to fetch their ID papers, their papers that would let them leave the country. I was so close! If only I'd come back sooner!" He explains that the Nazi Party is cracking down on travel by Jews and they now require expensive documentation to be allowed to depart; the poorer Jews can't afford it, and it's getting difficult even for the richer Jews to obtain papers. Diamant is stunned to find out the Orchudesches were planning to leave already; "They were going to tell you, Herr Diamant," Herr Heinrich insists, "they wanted to get the papers first, just to be sure, then Fräulein Frieda was going to try to convince you to come with them. I got the papers! But I was too late!"

Diamant manages to calm him a bit, and heads over to the neighbor's. She's gentile but seems to sympathize--"I tried warning them this might happen, I don't know why they waited so long." When Diamant asks where they might have been taken, she peers uneasily to the city's edge. "That work camp, I imagine," she says, "though I can't be sure. You're one of them...? You might think of getting out while you still can, because I've heard nothing good about that place. I hear nobody ever leaves."

Diamant returns to Herr Heinrich and sits with him a bit, waiting for him to cry himself out, before venturing to ask him for a favor: Heinrich is German, he has much more freedom than Diamant, does he know anyone, anyone at all who works for the government? Even just the local government, a councilman or anything--someone who can tell him where the Orchudesches were taken. "They all work for the Nazis!" Herr Heinrich exclaims, "why would they want to help you?" But after a moment of pondering, he says he knows a city clerk he once went to school with, they meet for lunch once in a while, and although he had to swear an oath to the Party, he's privately grumbled about them; Heinrich isn't sure how helpful he'll be, but he can give it a try. Diamant tells him to direct the man to his shop if he has any info.

He returns to work, though he can barely focus, he agonizes so much over not knowing what's become of Frieda and her father. He glances toward the camp, but knows that going searching himself is out of the question; all it'll do is draw unwanted attention. Heinrich had asked if he too had gotten a notice like Herr Orchudesch got; Diamant hasn't yet, and would like to continue flying under the radar as long as possible. He keeps taking orders even though it's killing him inside to not know where the Orchudesches are.

The shop bell rings one day and Diamant goes up front to find a tall, slender, bespectacled man in a gray suit with a swastika pinned to his lapel; "Herr Diamant...?" he says in a mild, almost bored voice, and Diamant cautiously confirms it, suspecting he's connected to the Nazi youths who recently visited to poke around his shop. "I've heard you can repair watches," the man says, pulling out a pocketwatch; "I can," Diamant says, "though yours seems to be functioning properly." He then gasps and jerks back; without warning, the man slams the pocketwatch on the counter a couple of times, looks at it, and says, "Shame...I seem to have broken it." He holds it out again and Diamant gingerly takes it, not wishing to do anything to upset him, though as soon as he turns away the man says, "You have a back work area? I'd very much like to see it." Diamant asks why; he just likes to observe the work process, is all. Hoping that giving him a look around might get rid of him quicker, Diamant undoes the chain behind the counter and waves him forward. "Look around if you like," he says, and starts rummaging around in his drawers of supplies, seeking the pieces he needs to fix the watch. A moment or so passes, Diamant growing antsier each second, before the man says, "I was told you're looking for a couple of friends of yours."

Diamant stiffens, whirls around. "You're--" he says, but the man jerks a finger up to his mouth, cutting him off. "You've had any unexpected visitors lately...?" he says; Diamant starts to say no, then remembers the Nazi youths who looked around and bought nothing; he'd assumed it was an intimidation attempt, but it sure was a lousy one. The man sees the look on his face and taps his ear. Diamant heads back into the shop and starts looking around, checking under counters, behind displays. It takes him a few moments...but he finds it. A small listening device stuck under the edge of a shelf. He removes it, casts the man standing in the doorway a look, then crushes it under his shoe. He returns to the back room but shuts the door for good measure; he kept an eye on the youths, they hadn't entered the back of the shop, but he looks around a bit just in case.

The man confirms that he's Herr Heinrich's friend, who works in a city records office. He tells Diamant that the people in charge of the legal situation of the Jews are the Schutzstaffel, and he definitely does not work for them or have direct access to their records. He had to use his own connections--and a little old-fashioned palm-greasing--to find a record of what happened to the Orchudesches. They were both arrested and taken into SS custody, from there to be sent to the camps. Diamant asks if this means that at the city's edge; no, not that camp, as it doesn't take women and elderly people. Frieda Orchudesch was taken to a women's camp in another city. Diamant asks what happened then; the clerk replies, "The record says Fräulein Orchudesch was killed immediately after arriving."

All the air leaves Diamant's lungs. The news--his Frieda, his betrothed, his love, is gone, forever--is delivered so abruptly it hits him like a wall of bricks, and his knees buckle; he ends up on the floor. The clerk is silent a moment before saying, "I was told you were close...I'm sorry for your loss."

"She...she's, she was young and healthy...why would they kill her?" Diamant can barely manage to say.

The clerk shrugs and replies, "Maybe she wasn't strong enough for the type of labor involved. Maybe the person doing selections had a bad day. Maybe it rained when the sun should have shone. Who knows? The SS needs no reason to do anything."

Diamant still has to fight to find his voice: "Herr--Herr Orchudesch. What about him? What happened to him--?"

The clerk looks vaguely uncomfortable and tries to demur, suggesting maybe he shouldn't know, but Diamant insists, so he finally replies, "Herr Orchudesch was placed on a train to another camp out of the city. The train was delayed for several days. He'd died by the time it reached the camp."

And there, like that, it is--the Orchudesches are gone, as if they'd never been. Diamant feels his world crumbling. For the first time in his life he has no idea what to do; he's too stunned and numb even to cry. "I wish I had better news for you," the clerk says. "My advice, Herr Diamant?--leave the country while you're still able. Don't put it off, because it's only going to get worse. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe my favor here is done." As he turns to head out, Diamant mumbles, "Your watch." "I need to buy a new one anyway," the clerk says, and leaves.

Herr Heinrich visits shortly after. "I wanted to know what happened," he murmurs, and his eyes fill with tears. "The look on your face tells me." He starts weeping. "If only I got the papers to them in time." He tells Diamant that he's leaving, and urges him to do the same--"There's nothing left here for people like you and me; and they would have wanted you to escape, at least one good thing should come of all this"--then remembers he has something he wants to give Diamant. He takes it from his pocket and holds it out: Frieda's ring. Diamant nearly recoils--now, now his eyes flood with tears as it hits him, here's what started it all, here at the end of it. "They ransacked the house," Herr Heinrich says, "took all the valuables they could find. Yet they missed this...she must have taken it off when they weren't looking, and hid it in this little spot she used to hide things when she was a child...she must have hoped I would find it there." His voice breaks when he says Diamant should have the ring; Diamant hesitates, it feels wrong somehow to take it back, plus some tiny part of his brain feels almost like the ring is now cursed--yet Herr Heinrich insists, saying it was his once, and surely Frieda left it behind for him to have. Diamant reluctantly receives the ring and takes a breath as the tears start streaming down his face. It feels like the oath has been broken, somehow. He feels like he should have been there to keep them safe.

Herr Heinrich turns to leave. Before he can reach the door, however--a spark, a thought, crystallizes in Diamant's head--he looks up and quickly calls out, "The papers." Herr Heinrich stops and looks back. "You still have them?" Herr Heinrich nods and wipes his eyes--"If only I got them there in time!"--yet right now Diamant doesn't have time for more pointless weeping. He stands and approaches: "May I see them?" Herr Heinrich digs the papers out of his pocket and holds them out. Diamant unfolds them; they're similar to a passport, resembling some kind of temporary pass, with grainy photos upon them--his vision blurs seeing Herr Orchudesch's and Frieda's faces looking back at him and he has to blink it clear again--and much more detailed information than he's seen on similar documentation before; there's even a spot determining the amount of "Jewish blood" the holder possesses. An official seal with the SS emblem is stamped on them. Diamant examines them for a moment before asking Herr Heinrich, "May I keep these?--bitte?" Herr Heinrich hesitates briefly, seeming perplexed, but his eyes water once more--"They're useless now. You can have them"--he urges Diamant once more to leave, wishes him farewell, and exits.

Diamant wants nothing more than to break down sobbing over the loss, the life he almost had, the one person who understood him and he wanted to be with forever, the other half of his soul--yet that will accomplish nothing, when an idea has sparked in his head. He closes shop early and goes into the back, sitting down to study the ID papers. He doesn't just look at the information supplied; he examines the typeface used, how crisp or faded it is, whether the individual letters are broken or intact. The size, quality, texture, thickness, and color of the paper. The stock the photos are printed on, if it's matte or glossy. The colors and patterns of the ink in the background. The design of the border. The length and thickness of the lines upon which the information is printed. The signatures of the holders and the official who stamped the ID and what sort of ink was used. And especially the SS stamp atop it all. He even pulls out his jeweler's loupe to examine every single element in minute detail. Once he commits all these details to memory, he tucks the papers away among his client records and heads out to do some shopping.

Diamant visits various shops and studios, returns to the shop hours later with his arms full of supplies. Clears a spot at his jewelry workstation and starts pulling out papers and inks. A deliveryman arrives with a new typewriter. Diamant's first act is to start carefully carving a stamp; as a jeweler, he has a keen eye for the tiny details that everyone else misses until they're all put together; still, just to be sure, he consults the IDs as he works. Within the hour, he has a perfect, reversed replica of the official SS ID stamp.

Diamant hates even looking at the evil thing, and promptly shoves it away in a drawer, yet continues working. Of course, he wasn't able to obtain exact samples of everything he needs, a few times he had to settle for near matches. He works late into the night as if it's one of his jewelry projects, switching between brush and pen and typewriter, doing gentle washes in muted colors, fanning the paper dry, pressing it flat under books, drawing the most delicate lines and patterns, typing in the information, affixing the photo, and finally--the very last step--inking the stamp, dabbing most of the ink off, and pressing it against the paper. The seal appears faded and patchy, as if it's been used countless times, yet the double lightning bolts are obvious. Diamant sits a moment and stares at his new official ID papers granting him passage out of the German Reich. Then shoves them in the drawer with the stamp and wonders WTF he's doing.

He gives himself the night to sleep on it. The next day he makes some calls, asks for help tracking down an acquaintance whose name he's forgotten, maybe someone can help him, he's a friend of Heinrich's. He finally reaches the correct office where a secretary responds not with "I'm sorry, I have no idea who that is," but "I'm sorry, he's out of the office right now." Diamant leaves a message to stop by his shop later that evening for an urgent matter, reiterating that he's "a friend of Heinrich's." Then resumes his regular work as he waits.

Just before closing time, after his last customer for the day leaves, the shop bell again rings. Diamant heads to the front. The city clerk is standing at the counter, a sour look on his face. "I was under the distinct impression our dealings were concluded," he says crossly. "And yet here you are, calling around and putting my job in jeopardy. I shouldn't have even bothered giving you the time of day for such negligence. Now tell me what you want before I reconsider my decision to come here." Diamant brushes off his warnings, presenting him with the ID papers; the clerk looks them over, blinks, and exclaims, "You took my advice--? Excellent, excellent, this is a wise choice you won't regret, Herr Diamant, trust me. Just take it to the appropriate office and you should be on your way. Remember to pack light, they won't let you take much."

Diamant lets out a breath. "It's convincing, then--?" he asks, feeling a surge of hope for the first time in ages. "If you were the one checking it, you'd let me through?" The clerk blinks again, furrows his brow--"What are you talking about?--you mean this..."--and then looks at the papers again. Squints, lifts his spectacles, holds them inches from his face, studies them. "This is a fake--?" he exclaims, and looks at Diamant, aghast. "What are you thinking?? Forging government documents and showing them to me! Are you mad?? Are you trying to get us both killed--??"

Diamant manages to calm the clerk down a bit, explaining that he's not asking him to accept the ID as genuine or even to help get him out of the country. He just needs to know if it's convincing enough to fool a clerk with his level of experience, and what about it might be improved. The clerk very reluctantly admits it's the most clever forgery he's seen, and clarifies that there are small variations between IDs, enough to likely account for whatever tiny inaccuracies exist in Diamant's copy. (Diamant had hoped as much, but wasn't sure.) The SS seal and signatures are the most important elements. Once he has this information, Diamant does make one final request: If he or one of his fellow clerks who deal with processing applications for such IDs ever hear of any parties who aren't able to obtain one, to direct them to come to his shop. The clerk, immediately understanding his intent, protests--"I won't endanger myself or my family any further by perpetrating a scam! Have you no idea how powerful the SS is? If they catch you forging their seal, they'll put you in a camp for certain!"--yet Diamant insists he's not asking him to participate in the scheme...just to point people in his direction. He won't need to sign or verify or fake anything at all. The clerk's resolve falters; after a brief hesitation, he says simply, "I have to go now," and heads for the door. "If you try contacting me again," he adds at the door, "I will not respond," and leaves.

Time passes. Diamant gets to know his neighboring shopkeepers, the BENTZES, and even strikes up a business arrangement with them; like him, they tend to keep to themselves, though Frau Bentz admits she's worried about his welfare. Diamant isn't sure how trustworthy or not they are, so keeps his own counsel; at the very least, he figures he's shielding them from whatever misfortune might come his way. He gets lost in thought while working on his projects, mulling over how to get word out that he's trying to offer help to those attempting escape; having so few connections to society is suddenly quite a hindrance. He starts to figure his plan must be shelved, and instead broods over a feeling of unfinished business, of letting the Orchudesches down. He'd wanted so much to do SOMETHING to set things right.

His bell rings one day and he's rather surprised when a family of five enters--surprised, because their attire and appearance is rather shabbier than the rest of his regular clientele. The man meekly addresses him, "We...we were told you're offering a bargain...?" Diamant frowns, says, what? The man falters, looks ready to leave then and there, yet the woman speaks up instead. Reiterates that they were informed that Diamant is offering a bargain. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, I'm not having any sale," Diamant says, increasingly confused, "Are you sure you have the right shop?"--because these people look like they'd never be able to afford anything he's selling. "You're Herr Diamant, ja--?" the woman insists, growing desperate; "We were told you're offering a bargain. A deal on custom items--personalized, for each of us. Bitte, we're willing to pay, everything we have."

"I'm sorry," Diamant says, bewildered; "I do custom work, ja, but I'm afraid I'm having no--" And then the phrase hits him. Personalized, for each of us. He blinks. "Custom items," he says, and looks at the woman, who's staring back pleadingly. "How many custom items?" he asks, just to be sure, and when she says, "Five," he undoes the chain and gestures for them to follow him into the back.

In privacy, Diamant listens as the couple tell him they tried to apply for IDs to leave the country, but couldn't afford the fees. The clerk seemed to notice their distress, and quietly told them that if they were willing to take a risk, to look up a jeweler's shop called Diamant's, and ask the proprietor if he was offering a deal on "custom items"; if all else failed, they could say that "Heinrich" sent them. They were on their own from there, no guarantees. Diamant tells them all the info he'll need to do the job--the woman has already gathered it, when applying for the actual IDs--and he takes it. He asks if they have any place to stay for a day or two as he prepares the papers; they say yes, and he instructs them when to return. He waves off the woman's offer of payment, saying they can settle that once they have the IDs in their hands.

Diamant toils over five sets of papers. Keeps the clerk's comments in mind, focusing mainly on the officials' signatures and the SS stamp, though also putting minute detail into the rest. When the family returns he gives them the papers but cautions them that he's never done this before, so he can't guarantee the clerks will be fooled; he's done his best, but they're still taking a huge risk. If they want to back out, he won't charge them anything. They hesitate only briefly before the woman says that they can either take a risk which might result in their incarceration/death, or do nothing at all and definitely meet the same fate. They'll take their chances. Diamant takes his payment--promising it'll go toward purchasing supplies for more IDs--and wishes them luck.

It's sheer agony in the following days, wondering and not knowing if the ruse worked. Yet then one afternoon a messenger arrives with a telegram. It's vague and brief, but the sender wants him to know they've reached their vacation home safely, and thanks for the help. They leave no names, just "Heinrich's friends."

Thus begins Diamant's new job, moonlighting as a document forger. At the start, he can easily recognize these clients when they arrive--they're always poorer than his jewelry clients--yet as time goes on, even better-off Jews, with income similar to his, start arriving. He can only assume that not only are sympathetic clerks passing along the word, but his reputation is also being spread by word of mouth; with this comes the increased risk of him being found out, yet he keeps at it. Without fail, the people he helps urge him to leave the country as well, get out while he can, yet he remains behind. Every ID he forges is another life possibly saved, another mark on the tally his mind is keeping; he doesn't know how many of their lives he'll need to save before he'll make up for Frieda's and her father's lives, no amount ever feels like enough to wipe the slate clean. He knows that the more IDs he forges, the longer he stays, the closer to disaster he brings himself, yet he just keeps at it; he'd hoped for some kind of redemption, yet nothing he does ever seems good enough, nothing ever closes the wound.

He never does find out who tips off the authorities. Maybe someone planted another bug? He does his best to be careful, he never keeps records of THOSE clients, he gets them in and out quickly. Is it a suspicious neighbor? A spy posing as a client? A clerk caving in under pressure or threats? A flaw or mistake in one of his own forgeries? He doesn't know, and frankly it doesn't matter. A military truck full of Party members and SS officials pulls up out front of his shop one bizarre day as windows are getting smashed along the street, and he's hauled into his back room. They tear through his client records, they pummel him with their fists and kick him with their boots, they jab his jeweler's files into his arms and take the jeweler's torch to his chest, but he insists he knows nothing about any forgeries. They almost break him, but keeping Frieda's face in his mind, her bright ear-to-ear smile, fuels his hatred, and hatred is stronger than fear. His shop is torn apart and set afire, he's dragged out and tossed into the truck, he's driven to the rail yard.

It makes no sense, he thinks, and the other men, strangers, crowded in the car with him murmur the same thing. They know where they're going. The camp just at the city's edge. But why like this, when the truck could take them? And why is it taking so long? One of them, a slightly older man, says the waiting is the point--there are ways to torture someone without laying a finger on them, simply by driving them mad with the waiting, the anticipation of a dreadful fate that never quite comes, except that's just it, that's the dreadful fate. The train is deliberately stalled. They're deliberately taking their time. Everything about this is deliberate, even accidents, because every dead Jew is just one less mouth to feed. Diamant recalls Herr Orchudesch's fate--dying slowly in a stalled train car--and wonders if his will be the exact same fate.

It isn't. Eventually the train starts moving again, a lengthy circuitous route, before arriving at the camp. Everyone is marched along a ramp--so much yelling--a uniformed man casts them each a quick glance, shouts "Left" or "Right." Every so often, a burst of gunfire sounds from the direction of those who are sent "left." The captives flinch, the guards don't. Diamant remembers what he was told of Frieda's death, and wonders, as he moves up the line, if that's to be his fate. The guard doing selections glances up at him, makes a face--"Right!"--and Diamant is shoved out of the line and toward a long building nearby.

A bored-looking SS officer is leaning against the building outside the door, arms crossed, cigarette in mouth; he simply watches as the men are herded inside, told to strip--Diamant's ears burn with humiliation as he does so--and directed toward the showers. Diamant's heard the rumors; he stands under the shower head, trying not to shake, hears a loud hiss, gasps when something explodes from it just over his head--then shudders--it's water, cold water, but just water nonetheless. The prisoners quickly wash themselves, shuffle into another room, are given striped clothes to wear. Another room, their heads shaved and their arms tattooed--Diamant grimaces both times, all the unnecessary added humiliation. Their personal details are entered in a ledger; Diamant sees his fellows having quick photographs taken, but for some reason no one calls his name. Then, badges quickly stitched to their shirts; Diamant receives a green-and-yellow Judenstern. The man affixing it to him is also in stripes and colored badge; "What does it mean?" Diamant asks, "Means you're a criminal, and a Jew," the other prisoner replies, "same difference to these folks."

He's sent back out, made to get in another line in the muddy yard--roll call--work and barracks assignments--waking, meals, and sleeping times--rules and regulations. A loud-voiced officer yells this all out at them as they stand at attention, the bored-looking officer beside him, looking everyone over. Diamant feels a twinge of surprise when the yelling officer introduces the camp commandant--who isn't him. He indicates the bored-looking man, and says, "All of you may refer to him as Mein Herr, or Herr Dannecker."

I've outlined some of Diamant's stay in the labor camp in previous entries. His cautious friendship with fellow prisoners Lukas Mettbach and Arno Spiegel. How he makes the mistake of standing up to Dannecker, then finds out the hard way just how formidable the unassuming-looking Obersturmbannführer is, once he declares Diamant his "pet project." How being a pet project perfectly encapsulates what he learned on the train, that you can break a person without even laying a finger on them; Commandant Dannecker is an expert at psychological warfare, especially the use of Russian roulette. How he's not above using plain old physical torture, too--jamming a jeweler's file into Diamant's right hand and twisting it around, shredding the nerves. How Diamant finds himself scheming again, another wild and reckless plan, knowing that if he doesn't get out of there, Dannecker will either kill him, or make him kill himself. How the plot involves persuading the commandant's stepdaughter, Gret, to help him, and the particular ruse they use to trick Dannecker into letting down his guard, with Gret asking him for a gift, a piece of jewelry. Dannecker just happens to know a jeweler, once the best jeweler in the city. He has Diamant brought to him. He commissions him to make a ring.

...

Frieda isn't a character I made in her own right; she was originally intended to fill a simple role in Diamant's life, that of soulmate. As leader of the Diamond Network, Diamant helps bring Inga Dobermann into hiding; separated from her family and lonely, she kisses him, but he refuses to let it go any further--even though it's obvious he's fallen in love with her. He knows her husband is her true soulmate, and he knows how it hurts to lose half of your soul; when explaining what happened to Dobermann, he starts to mention how he suspects Dobermann must not like him, including for his race; Dobermann cuts in with "Not like you--? I HATE you! I hate you for breaking up my family. I hate you for taking my wife from me and our daughter. I don't give a damn what you are, I'd still hate you. Now get out of my house!"

The comments sting--but Diamant isn't offended. He understands that the hate comes from the hurt. Dobermann just admitted a pretty big and important truth that's been hazy up until now: He doesn't care if someone, including Inga, is Jewish or German or what. He loves her just the same, and hates Diamant for separating him from his soul. Diamant determines to not only never get in the way of that, but to reunite the family as soon as he's able. It means he'll end up alone...but Inga isn't his to have.

The Dobermanns are indeed reunited at the war's end, and spend a blissful final year or so together before Dobermann sacrifices himself in the Alpine Fortress. Diamant tries to save him, but Dobermann, knowing he'll just end up pulling him down with him, hits his hand and forces him to let go. His final words to Diamant: "Look after her." He's known about Diamant's feelings for a long time, but never hated him for that. It's quite a while before Inga learns of her husband's last request, as Diamant never tells her; she learns it from Lukas. Diamant reaffirms his feelings for her when she visits him about it; the two begin a cautious relationship. They never marry, but remain devoted to each other until Inga's death around a decade later, from early-onset dementia (she confuses Diamant for Dobermann, telling him she loves him, then in a brief moment of lucidity, adds, "I love you, Josef"); Diamant never partners with anyone else, though he continues to treat the Dobermanns' daughter, Adelina, as if she's his own. He commissions a sculpture for their graves: Louis Dobermann with a cross, Inga Dobermann with a Star of David, holding each other's hand and gazing at each other.

In "In Heaven," Inga and Dobermann are reunited at last. But who is there for Diamant to meet...? My initial idea for the unnamed Frieda, in life, was for them to meet similarly to how it's described here, yet she tells him she's leaving the country, and she'll wait for him; after the war, he never goes looking for her, and they never meet again. This didn't sit well with me; Diamant wouldn't have left someone hanging like that. He had to have a good reason to never meet her again...the only way he'd never go seeking her is if she's not alive anymore. Frieda's story came into being as I wrote this up, and I learned not only who Diamant's soulmate is, but his own history too, and his ultimate motivation for taking the path he does, endangering himself up to the very end so he can help others. It isn't solely altruism that motivates him; it's hatred for the SS, and guilt over his past failure to save half of his own soul.

Ironically, Dr. Schäfer describes Diamant to Sgt. Gerhardt as having "sold half his soul to the devil," following his murder of Dannecker--who was known as "Der Teufel"--and escape from his camp. In effect, he's "become" Dannecker. Gerhardt also notices all the similarities Diamant shares with members of the SS, telling him in a moment of anger that he and his enemy, Lt. Hesse, are merely two sides of the same coin. Diamant even disguises himself in an SS uniform. This is a harsh truth it takes Diamant a long time to accept, that in his efforts to set things right, he ends up radicalizing himself to be nearly indistinguishable from what he hates most. He isolates himself for a while following the war (the others believe he was captured and killed), before meeting the Dobermanns again.

Diamant must intentionally wipe Frieda from his mind for a time. In "In Heaven," people (who don't go through purgatory, or already did) first meet with the person their soul calls out to the most. For example, Otto Himmel meets his wife Dagmar; Hesse meets Sophie; Teal Rat, abandoned by his family, meets a stranger who heard his soul call out in loneliness. Diamant doesn't meet Inga, he meets...Dannecker. It's utterly shocking for him to meet his old tormentor again this way, and for a moment he thinks he must be in Hell although he doesn't believe in it. Dannecker explains that the one your soul calls out to isn't necessarily your soulmate or even your friend; it's the person to whom you were most closely connected when you died, for better or worse. Schäfer's assessment of him wasn't too far off the mark, that in the absence of half his soul (metaphorically speaking, probably), something needed to fill the void, and what filled it was hate. Maybe, if Diamant had let it fade rather than fester, his soul would have healed sooner, and called out to the one it really wished to see. Dannecker says, better late than never; then lifts his head and looks at something behind Diamant. There she must be now, he says, the person Diamant truly wanted to meet. Diamant looks, and finds Frieda Orchudesch coming his way, smiling ear to ear. Stunned and confused, he glances back, yet Dannecker is gone. Frieda is still there, though, and she smiles up at him, saying, "I've been waiting for you."

See also HERR ORCHUDESCH'S ENTRY.

[Frieda Orchudesch 2024 [‎Friday, ‎August ‎16, ‎2024, ‏‎12:00:08 AM]]

[boyslushie]

gentapprentice day 6, “(boy)friends to lovers”. a late morning full of kisses.... all i can say about physical intimacy between mc!ross and julian is that there’s certainly no shortage of it 💘

[devoraqs]

Day One: Magic Man What kind of magic do they specialise in?

@gentapprentices​

“I know what you’re going to ask. Yes, there’s a spell to turn lead into gold. No, I’m not going to do it because you need twice as much gold as lead to actually get it to work, and that’s not very cost effective is it.”

 Alexander’s strongest magical skill is alchemy, though he still dabbles in others. He likes to experiment with transmutation of spell reagents to either increase their potency or to change the way they react in spellwork. This has... varying levels of success! On more than one occasion, Asra’s come home to find the back room covered in a layer of magical soot from a spell backfiring (read: exploding).  As well as this, he’s a keen astronomer and astrologer, and draws a lot of divination power from the planets and constellations. 

Picture details under the cut